Moonlight: A Twilight Parody
by VampricFaeryGirl
Summary: Let's face it, when we first read Twilight, we loved it. And then we woke up. This fanfic is more realistic look at vegetarian vampires and the lonely girl who meets them. It begins catering to comedy, and then gets darker.
1. Preface

**_PREFACE_**

I'D NEVER GIVEN MUCH THOUGHT TO HOW I WOULD DIE – but now that I was face to face with yet another killer, I was beginning to question why I'd been such an idiot. I'd faced death so many times in the last year, but I'd never imagined it would end like this.

My would-be-killer faced me with a smile, his fangs all too clear in the moonlight.

He crouched. "Give me what I want." He took my wrist in his hand. "Let's see a little hate."

I curled my fingers and with my free hand punched his nose up, the way my gym teacher had taught us. I think I cracked something, a bone in my palm, because I cried out from the pain of hitting him. His head had moved back, but his nose was in the same place and he'd shed no blood.

"Still resisting," he said with a hungry grin. He laughed. "Poor choice."

I'd never given much thought to how I would die—but I knew if I'd never gone to Forks, I wouldn't be facing death now. If only I'd chosen something different. But it hadn't been my choice. I was here because of him. Because I couldn't get Edward Cullen to stay the hell away from me.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**My vampires have fangs. Always.**

**This story begins a lot lighter, more parody/fun times, and then gets darker. And will get darker as I interpret each of the books in the Twilight Saga. I hope reading this fan fiction is fun and pleasurable. Review/comment. Enjoy. **


	2. Chapter 1: First Sight

A TWILIGHT PARODY: MOONLIGHT

_1. FIRST SIGHT_

MY MOTHER DROVE ME TO THE AIRPORT WITH THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN. She's obviously forgotten again that I hated when the windows were down, and doubled with the flight I was about to take, meant my eardrums were in serious danger of rupturing. But the air outside the window was welcoming, the rush of wind helped cool me down. I was dying of heat. An eighty-degree summer day in Phoenix can do that to a girl.

My mother had moved to Phoenix to live with her new husband, Phil. As much as I liked the guy, his job transfer to Phoenix was the death of me, for two reasons. One, the heat – I wilted in heater faster than a daisy in the heart of a volcano. Two, ever since the marriage I'd been getting less and less mother-daughter-love time and more mother-daughter-angst time. The arguments were getting unbearable and the both of us needed a break. So I was going to live with my Dad until high school ended. By that time, I was sure Mom and I would form an understanding – and she'd be out of the newlywed phase that was driving me insane.

Dad lived in a small town named Forks in the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington. It was like living in a rain forest without the heat – away from modern civilization and always wet. It was where both my parents were born and raised. They'd divorced not long after I'd been born and Mom – who'd always had big ambitions – escaped with me, and we never settled in a place for long after that. Mom's usual tolerance for a city lasted a year, maybe two, and then she moved us to find bigger and better things. The longest we lived in a single city was four years – and now she was planning to settle in Phoenix with Phil. I had my doubts about how long she'd last.

When I was younger, I'd spent summer vacation in Forks with Dad. He was always encouraging me to get outside, enjoy the few hours of sun the rainy town allowed – and he was always setting up play dates with the children of his fishing buddies – but I was a bit of a shut in. I'd play when Dad had forced me to, but I was so used to being alone that I'd never choose to go out – not if I could convince him otherwise. It had been a few years since I last spent time with Dad.

Now I was exiling myself to Forks, Washington for two years. It was out of necessity, so I couldn't complain. I'd miss Mom, her cooking, her sage advice pulled from fortune cookies, the clothes I borrowed off her, and I'd definitely miss borrowing her car.

"Bella," my mom said to me – the last of a thousand times – before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this."

My mom doesn't look anything like me; except for the brown hair and eyes we shared. I looked a lot like my Dad's sister who lived in Florida. I'd often heard that we had the same small round chin, same thick eyelashes, same small mouth, and big forehead perfect for a scholar or a bookworm – and I was definitely one of those things. (I was still debating on the other.) My mother and I did have a common personality. We were erratic, loyal, and stubborn as hell. We were both only children, so I'd been forced to play second fiddle to her wants sometimes. With her as a mother, I'd learned to take my turn. But she'd taught and enforced unbreakable values, like being honest and loyal above all things. However, she'd been unsuccessful at teaching me patience.

"I _want_ to go," I lied. Well, half-lied. That made it easier to lie, if it was partly true. Now that it mattered if it was half true. I was a great liar. I hated lying – and I especially hated lying to my mother – but I was definitely good at it. But it was my hope that the lie would come true – that Forks wouldn't be as horrible as my instincts were telling me it would be.

"Tell your dad I said hi." She smiled tightly. The divorce had been bitter, and every time she said his name it was like she'd swallowed salt water.

"Sure." I'd tell him – and it would make his day.

"If you want to come home – at any time – even if it's midnight or three in the morning or a weekday – you can even cut class to see me," she insisted. "But try not to cut class. I think your father might actually call me, just to complain about it. Besides, you do well in school. I don't want you to give up halfway through."

I nodded. I knew her story well. She'd dropped out, then regretted it and had to go back. She'd gone to teachers college too. Dad liked the idea of education, but it's not like he had a PhD. But my parents thoroughly believed in a high school diploma.

"Don't worry about me, Mom," I said and hugged my arms around her. It was an awkward hug, since we were in the car and she had her seatbelt still strapping her tight to the seat. "This'll be good for me." I released her to see her eyes shining and wet. "Maybe this will help me come out of my shell, huh?"

She laughed and hugged me again. This time she undid her seatbelt to reach me. Then, I got out of the car, checked into my flight, and she was gone.

The two-hour flight was fairly smooth. A few bumps, but nothing frightening or even enough to spill the coffee I'd gotten from the flight attendant. I wasn't afraid of flying – although it wasn't my favorite thing to do. I always went near deaf from the pressure and altitude – like I was listening to the world from inside a fishbowl – and it usually lasted long after I got off the flight. I wasn't looking forward to the hour-long drive from the airport to Forks with Dad – especially now that I was hard of hearing, but maybe that was a good excuse if the conversation suddenly stopped.

Dad was pretty excited about the whole thing. He loved the idea of me living with him. We'd been a lot closer when I was younger – a real Daddy's little girl type – but we'd drifted apart when I started growing up. I wasn't the kind of person who indulged in small talk. Dad could do the whole small talk thing, but I wasn't interested. That meant we'd have very little to talk about. No doubt he'd ask me about what had made me decide to live with him after all these years. I didn't have an answer for him – not one I wanted to talk about – not with him.

When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. No surprise there. I'd brought my newly purchased blacker-than-black rain jacket – although I'd been tempted to buy a dorky yellow one, just for the heck of it – and was grateful I'd had it wrapped around my arm rather than hidden somewhere in a suitcase. I put it on and zipped it up tight. I was not in the mood to get wet. My hair started frizzing. So far, it was looking like today would be a long day. I was already tired from the flight (I didn't travel well) and I knew driving with Dad for an hour would tire me out even more. I was beginning to feel depressed.

Dad was sitting outside, ready to pick me. Normally, I would have been grateful, except for the blue and red lights on top of his hood. Nothing was more embarrassing than getting a lift from the airport in a police car. But Dad was the chief of the Forks police. He was the boss of all ten of the policemen (and women) of Forks.

I decided right then and there that I didn't need to buy my dream car – I just needed to buy _a_ car. Anything that didn't include a siren—and _did _included an engine and four wheels. If only I had a dime to my name to purchase a beater.

Dad bear-hugged me. He was warm compared to the rain. It was awkward. I had a bag hanging at my elbow and one hand still attached to my bag-on-wheels. I had one hand on him, barely hugging him – and he seemed to think I was a little girl who needed nothing more than a hug to make her feel welcome. What I needed was an umbrella and the top twenty playing on the radio.

"It's good to see, Bell," he said, smiling as he fumbled to take the back out of my grasp. He popped trunk and tossed it in (I cringed, knowing my less toss-able items were in there).

"It's good to see you, too, Dad," I said, sounding too much like he was a third cousin rather than half of my genetic code. I forced a brighter smile on my face and told myself that there was no need to act estranged – even if we'd barely spoken in the last few years.

"How was the flight?" He looked at me cheerily as his small talk began.

"Fine. I had the window seat."

Dad opened the door for me and ushered me in. I slid in and examined the empty coffee cups and a small box with pink bows and teddy bears printed on it. Dad shut the door and came around to the driver's side. He cleared his throat a couple times as he started the car and pulled out, looking both ways like a role model should.

"I see you drink coffee." I tried the small talk thing. I was terrible at it.

"Yep."

Yep, I was definitely terrible at it. I'd even managed to shut up Dad with my lack of skill. It was going to be a long, long ride. I put my feet on the dash and tried to get comfortable.

"Feet down."

I pulled them down in a flash. "Sorry."

"Your legs would be torn right off in an accident," he warned, shooting me a stern look.

"Yeah, I wasn't thinking about that," I confessed. "I'm just tired of sitting."

He chuckled. "Planes will do that to you."

"Yup." I nodded like a bobble head doll.

The car drove on silence for another minute. I pulled the elastic off my wrist and started playing with it, twisting it into a really small cat's cradle. I trapped my pinky inside as I pulled the elastic. I was bored of my trick already.

"Oh. Almost forgot. Got something for you." Dad picked up the little box and handed it to me.

I cupped it in my hand, inspecting it with narrowed eyes. What the heck did he know about getting gifts for a teenage girl who was sixteen-going-on-seventeen? It was small, so I suspected jewelry, but I knowing him he'd pick out some lame little girl studs or maybe he'd try to be hip and end up giving something way too out there for someone as simple and clean as me. I liked dressing a little like a doll – and not the fashion runway Barbie – with a sweater vest and jeans. Especially jeans. I rarely wore anything except jeans and the occasional skirt in the summer (if it happened that there was no wind that day). Today I was just wearing a light sweater, navy blue with a v-neck. It was loose and comfy – good for travelling.

"What is it?"

"Open it." His eyes were on the road, but he was smiling. He truly believed I would like the gift.

Reluctantly, I pulled off the lid and looked inside. I was completely surprised. I looked at Dad and he looked at me, grinning ear to ear – like he'd gotten the gift instead of me. I dumped the keys into my hand. I pretended the keys were to a Porche 911 Turbo. Hell, I'd take any car that was made after 1989.

"Are these just keys to the house or…?"

He chuckled. "Bell, they're car keys." He laughed with his belly shaking like a bowl full of jelly. I was suddenly reminded of _'Twas the Night Before Christmas_. Dad looked like a dark-haired Santa—except he didn't have a long beard, just a mustache. He'd been less grey the last time I'd seen him. He used to run marathons and go for a long jog every day. Apparently he'd stopped.

"What kind of car?" I was skeptical, and I made sure my expression showed it. I wouldn't be fooled into taking some crap old truck that was doomed to die in a month. I wanted something that would run – and I wouldn't be more embarrassed driving it than getting it Dad's cruiser.

"What's this costing me?" I demanded.

"Gas," he answered with a smirk. "I was so busy this year that I missed your birthday and – I know Forks isn't your favorite place in the world – but I want you to be happy here."

I felt guilty that he was so perceptive. I smiled. I was grateful that he'd thought of me. "I appreciate this. And having a car would make any freedom-wanting teen happy. Now what kind of thing is this?"

He pressed his lips together tightly. He hesitated. He'd known I'd be happy about the keys, but to what they belonged to…it was proof that he hadn't broke the bank to get a hold of this combination belated birthday and homecoming gift.

"It's a truck." He nodded his head sharply. He avoided looking at me.

I stared ahead, my eyes just as locked on the road as his. I barely blinked. I tried not to think about what he'd just said – that he'd mentioned the one kind of vehicle that I didn't want. No, I had to look on the brought side. He wasn't rich enough to buy me a smart car. A truck was definitely better than a smart car. At least I could fit in a truck and maybe have picnics in the back. If I were unlucky enough to not make a single friend, I'd eat my lunch in the back and try to look as badass as possible – and maybe that would impress someone.

"How'd you get a truck?" I wondered.

"Do you remember my friend Billy?" he asked, sounding confident that I would. "It's always been a hobby of his to collect old trucks and try to fix 'em up. Just so happens this one was done and he was looking to sell it."

"Fix 'em up," I echoed. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the seat. I was ready to sink into the car and dissolve. "Does it run good? I'm not going to stall somewhere and have no clue what to do about it?"

"Oh sure. Nothing is so far gone you can't fix it, right?" His words didn't convince either of us.

"Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome." He leaned over and kissed my forehead. Then his eyes returned to the road.

We continued to drive, mostly in silence but the occasional small talk to enter into the equation. He asked if there was anything new to tell him. No. Did I remember a lot about Forks? No. Was I looking forward to school starting? No. Was I able to keep contact with the friends I'd moved away from? Not really. There's was just one friend who'd been my email pen pal from the last city I'd lived in with Mom. Moving around a lot made it difficult to keep in contact with anyone. Sometimes I thought Mom liked it better that way.

The one thing I liked about car trips was watching out windows. I liked watching scenery fly by at a speed impossible on foot. It was like temporarily being Superman. And in Forks this temporary Superman saw mostly green.

Forks was lush with ferns and bush. The dampness pumped life into the moss and the dense canopy of trees and leaves. It was surrounded by forests perfect for all sorts of wildlife to roam around in – lions, tigers, and bears oh my. I'd never come across anything with sharp teeth in my trips to Forks, but supposedly there used to be a pretty big wolf population. They hadn't been spotted in years though. That was a relief to me. I didn't want to be gobbled up on my way to grandmother's house – well, if I had a grandmother in Forks (a living one, as there were two in the Forks cemetery).

Fork was beautiful strictly from a vegetation view. It was so small town that there was nothing but vegetation, and the few people that seemed to like being caged by it. I wondered if it would grow on me.

We made it to the house in just over an hour. Dad was a stickler for the speed limit, and refused to speed up just to quicken the journey – even when he saw my eyelids start to droop.

Originally, Dad had lived in a three-bedroom house – when he still entertained the idea that Mom and I would come back for good. When he gave up on that idea, when I was eight, he'd moved into a two-bedroom house. It looked small on the outside – and felt smaller on the inside. I saw a cherry red truck parked on the street outside the house. Dad pulled into the driveway and parked. I stepped out of the car, sluggish and feeling tongue-tied.

"Well?" Dad looked from the truck to me. "What do you think?"

I looked from the truck to Dad…then again…and again. Was there a polite, grateful way to say the truck was disappointing but it was the thought that counts?

"It's just what I needed," I said, which was true – since I had required a vehicle that wasn't the police cruiser. "Thanks, Dad. Really."

He beamed. My words had fooled him into thinking he'd earned a mug that said number one dad on it. I smiled tightly, knowing I was the only daughter he had, so I'd have to get him that mug eventually. He was expecting it now, so there was no way out.

It only took one trip to get my stuff inside. I didn't even glance at the wall decorated in pictures depicting various years of schooling and a few of my few accomplishments. Dad took one suitcase, and I took the other and my carry-on bag. I put everything on the floor in my room. It hadn't changed since I'd last been inside. Pink sheets, pink pillow, and three lavender painted walls and one white wall. There was a narrow, but wide desk pushed against the white wall. I pulled out the black desk chair. I sat down. It was a good fit – and it was more welcoming than the pink twin-sized bed. I noticed my collection of teddy bears and stuffed animals was still set up at the head of the mattress. They would be the first things to go.

"Can I help you unpack or anything?" Dad asked. He looked like he didn't have a clue how to proceed – something we had in common. His bright blue eyes scanned the room, one last check to see if he'd made a fatal mistake before it was too late to fix it. To him, this move of mine was all about saving our father-daughter relationship. It was so important to him that he was breaking a sweat.

"I'm good on my own," I said. "I think I want to unpack on my own – get settled in – get reacquainted with the place. I do have to live here now."

My tone must have sounded cold and irritated because Dad looked as depressed as I felt. He looked away, avoiding my eyes, watching the floor with too much interest. He nodded and his lips tightened into a line. It wasn't a very good attempt at a smile, but he'd never been good at faking smiles before. It was something he and Mom had in common – incredible honesty, whether that's what they were going for or not. Their inability to lie made me appreciate honest people. It made me feel guilty for not sounding more grateful.

"I'll help you with dinner in a bit," I promised. "Just give me an hour to get things in order."

"Sure, Bell." He nodded and shuffled out the door. "We're having tacos." He smiled brightly.

"Awesome." I grinned. At least tacos would make my day a little sunnier. "Thanks, Dad."

Dad nodded once more and then vanished down the hallway. I listened for the last step of the stairs to creak before shutting the door. I exhaled deeply, forcing all my stress to go out with the air. I turned to my bags and put my hands on my hips. I wasn't in the mood to unpack, but I needed to.

I started hanging everything I could on hangers. The only dresser I had was child-sized, so it wouldn't hold even half of my clothes. I'd had that dresser since I was born. Dad had kept it even after he'd moved and I'd grown. Thankfully the closet was a fair size, and Dad had provided a lot of hangers. I managed to cram most of my shirts, jeans, jackets, sweaters, and everything else into the closet, leaving only a few tops, pajamas, undergarments and socks for the dresser. I was impressed with my ability to fit so much in so little space. I also realized I didn't have as big as wardrobe as I thought.

I moved onto the rest of my unpacking. I stacked my books on a shelf – and realized that a few childhood books filled with fairytales were still on the shelf. It was strangely comforting to see the titles lined up. The _Harry Potter_ series and _Pride and Prejudice_ next to _The Little Mermaid_ and _Beauty and the Beast_ – the shelf was completely covered in books of all different thicknesses and topics. I lined up my limited collection of DVDs and CDs and the lower shelf. Then I tossed all the bears and animals into the bottom of my closet. I set up my alarm clock on the side table. I took out my laptop and plugged the charger into the wall. After a two-hour flight my laptop needed some more juice.

I stepped back toward the door and reviewed my room. It was better now that it had some of my stuff in it. It was no paradise, but it was acceptable. I wished I had something to put on the walls, like photos or posters, but I'd never been one to take pictures or collect posters. Maybe I'd start, just to cover the walls.

I went down for tacos and conversed with Dad like a good daughter should. I kept the conversation light, and tried to answer with sentences rather than one word. By the end of dinner I was feeling that at least I could feel comfortable around Dad, even after the distance we'd had – and by how broad his smile was it looked like he thought so too. He said over and over how confident he was that I would fit in, that I'd love it, and school would be no big deal. He was under the impression I'd make friends no problem. I didn't have the heart to tell him he was so very wrong. It made me wonder how much he really knew about me – and whose fault that was. I couldn't find it in myself to blame only him.

I went to bed early and tucked myself under the covers. I listened to the rain pat and a tree branch tap against the window. I couldn't hear the wind, but I could almost feel it. Goosebumps covered my skin. I found myself blinking against tears. It was more than just the move, more than just having to rekindle a dying relationship with my dad, and more than just the storm. I was realizing – through the lack of pictures and posters, my empty email inbox, the contact list on my phone that had three names – how truly pathetic it was that I had had so little human connection. Maybe I wasn't human at all.

I pulled the sheets over my head and wiped my tears on the fabric. The branch had stopped tapping the window but the rain was still going strong. Moonlight poured through the window.

In just one more day the school year would start. It was just another new school, just another fresh start. Two hundred eighty-nine students was an awfully small population for a high school – compared to what I was used to. I had my fingers crossed that the school wasn't really into cliques, because if I had any chance it would have to be. That was my vow to myself. I wasn't going to be a loner this year. Not another year. I wasn't going to be some sad, pathetic girl who cries herself to sleep and has an empty inbox and no one to talk to about the latest episode of whatever show was popular. I was promising myself that people were going to like me – and maybe not everyone – but I'd find that one group that would accept me. So watch out Forks High School, Bella Swan was on her way.

I had my doubts that a promise made to myself was enough to pave the way, and I wondered what it would be like to walk through the school doors. I was a ghostly pale girl of average height. I hoped the school wasn't super into athletics, because I couldn't catch or throw a ball to save my life and I didn't have the strength to do most sports. I had plenty of stamina, but I didn't want to join a track team. I'd never found running interesting. If I was lucky they'd have a book club and I could hang out with the nerds. Even nerd friends were better than no friends.

No. I was going to get passed my anti-social behavior. I was going to be the happiest girl in Forks even if it killed me. I'd even join a track team if I had to.

The next day was busied with a long phone call with Mom, a long-winded email to my pen pal friend (who I was hoping was accidentally ignoring me for two months because she was busy and not because she had given up on me), studying my class schedule, and practice run in the truck. The drive was fine and it didn't take too long to get used to driving it. It was strange feeling so tall. The truck was higher than the cars I was used to driving in. Dad was at work most of the day, so I was allowed some alone time to adjust to the house. I picked up my first-day outfit and changed my mind a million times. I wasn't sure what counted as a good impression in Forks High School. Dad taught me how to make his secret ingredient lasagna for dinner.

Thank God the secret ingredient wasn't love. It was home grown herbs. Who knew, right?

The night before the first day, I tossed and turned all night. I tangled the sheets so well that at one point I couldn't move. I had to peel the blankets off me and re-make my bed. I did get some sleep. I had a dream about a shopping cart with my schoolbooks in it and I was lost in Forks High. It was just myself, a shopping cart, a bunch of bears with knives, and classrooms with students and teachers who I didn't recognize – and didn't recognize me. When my alarm starting ringing in a rage, my head popped off the pillow like toast out of a toaster. I slammed the snooze button and laid my head back down. I hated waking up from wacky dreams. It made the whole day feel hectic.

I rolled out of bed and sheepishly went into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth with my eyes half-closed. I didn't start to feel awake until I was downstairs with toast in my mouth, dressed in black jeans with a white lacy camisole and a rose-pink hoodie. I'd thought about curling my hair but then I remembered the rain. I had no choice but to accept my straight, frizzed hair.

Dad went to work at the station first, and then I rolled out in my truck. I had my army print messenger bag with a binder, lined paper, and a couple pens. I put my phone on silent and crossed my fingers that by the end of the week my contact list would have more names. I studied my schedule one more time. Dad had received it in the mail a week before my arrival and had handed it to me the day after I'd arrived. I was hoping that a small town school wouldn't be so big that it would be difficult to find my first class. History. I'd always liked History. It was a good sign.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I was surprised by not only the size of the lot but the amount of cars. At my last school, only a fortunate few of the eight hundred students had cars, but here it seemed like there were enough cars to drive the entire student body home – if they all carpooled, of course. The school was a little out of town, so I supposed it made sense. For some kids on one end of town, the walk would be a bit far. The school didn't have a bus system either.

I pulled the hood of my rain jacket over my head, locked my truck, and walked briskly toward the doors. I was tempted to run, but I didn't want to look like an outsider. I pretended I was accustomed to the weather and slipped inside with a crowd of five as they entered through the large doors. I heard my sneakers squeak against the peachy-toned linoleum floor. I looked at the room number and started down the first hall to my right. When I realized the room numbers in the hall on the number on my schedule were at complete opposite ends, I was glad I'd come early. I managed to find the right room a minute before class – but I'd discovered a few of my other future classrooms on the way. I took a seat in the second-to-last row. Other students filed in. None of them looked at me, not even the girl who sat next to me. She was too preoccupied texting like she was competing for the world record of letters types per second. The teacher – a wiry haired man with a beak for a nose and a grating voice – started the class two minutes late. I tried not to groan or sigh as I realized the one class I'd been looking forward to was taught by a teacher I already disliked.

The bell that rang to end the slow grating speech of my History teacher, Mr. Riles, was an equally grating sound. It reminded me of school bells in old, old TV shows. It was a clanging, ancient sound – but not majestically ancient, just like the bell would fall apart at any second. When I went to stand up a boy a head and a half taller than me approached. He had thick-rimmed black glasses and black hair that had obviously been slicked into place by product of some kind.

"You're new, so I'm guessing you're Isabella Swan, the police chief's daughter, right?" He sounded confident, but it wasn't hard to figure out he was nervous about being the first to approach me, as the new girl was uncharted waters.

"Bella," I corrected. "I go by Bella."

He nodded slowly. I'd thrown him off guard. "Right. My name's Eric."

"Eric," I repeated to commit it to memory.

"Yeah. So what classes to you have next? Maybe I can point you in the right direction."

"Uh, I have"—I pulled out my schedule with a little difficulty, almost dropping my pens on the floor in my clumsy effort to hurry. "Trigonometry and then English."

"I have Trig next," Eric said with a triumphant grin.

"Perfect." I almost heard a chorus of angels sing. I felt relieved for the first time. Someone was actually offering to lead me to my next class. It was a good place to start. "You lead the way."

I followed Eric down the hall and into the next one. He asked about how I liked living in Forks and I told him that I was getting off to a good start. He asked a few other questions, and I tried to sound as interesting as possible while still being honest. The most interesting thing I had to say was moving from place to place my whole life. To someone like Eric, who'd lived in the same house since the day he was born, my travels were something of interest. I'd prepared myself that our conversing might end the second we entered the classroom, but instead he introduced me to a couple people he knew in the class and told them I was the new girl, and that I went by Bella. He told them I was well travelled. It was a good way to spark their interest.

By the time class started I'd begun to feel welcome by at least three people. Eric and his friends Alan and Jessica even spoke to me when the teacher's back was turned. I took it as a sign that maybe they would be friendly long enough for me to befriend them, rather than just have them pity the new kid.

Jessica had English with me and she walked with me to class. After questioning me a bit more, she launched into all the exciting gossip and upcoming events she was certain I'd be interested in. I nodded along and encouraged his ranting. English class was filled with people she considered her friends and she introduced me to all of them before class. Jessica was extremely chatty and bubbly. She invited me to the cafeteria with her.

The lunchroom was loud and chaotic – like a high school lunchroom should be. Round tables with too many chairs and some with two few chairs covered the floor. Some groups claimed the tables for small groups that people dared no approach, while some people gathered around a few tables and mashed together, forming one giant blob of loudness and life. Jessica's group was a little like that. Eric was part of them group, and there were also seven other people I hadn't met yet. Jessica said their names and pointed to each of them, but she was so quick that I'd forgotten all the names after she'd said them. One was either named Steve or Stan. And the ginger's name started with an A. I knew that much.

The talking never stopped. I nibbled a little on the first half of my ham and cheese sandwich, but gave up on the second half in order to answer all the questions thrown at me. I found out that I shared afternoon classes with some of the latest people I'd met. I was feeling lucky for the first time in a while. It was looking like making friends in Forks High wasn't as tricky as I'd thought.

It was then, as Jessica launched into a pep talk about the year's first school dance, that I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the lunchroom, nearest to the doors. I just caught them as I looked over Jess's shoulder, sitting on their own, as if they had invisible walls separating them from everyone else. There were five of them in total, looking like a school-themed photo shoot. They were like models – only instead of thin and wearing heavy make-up, they looked like perfect human specimens. It was weird looking at them and calling them humans instead of angels or aliens. My whole body buzzed with fright and amazement. They were paler than me – which was an incredible feat – skin as white as snow. They had pale circles under their eyes, like they'd all missed a night's sleep. The three boys looked tall, and even through their clothes it was obvious they were toned. One looked like a bear – a large frame, wide shoulders, lots of dark curly hair and a strong chin, like he was Hercules or an exaggerated _Superman_. Of the two tallest, one was the bear-like boy and the other was honey-blonde and lean – more like model-thin than the other two. His expression was tight and his eyes were a little wide, like someone had shot his prized pig before he'd taken it to the fair. The last boy was the shortest – but by no means short. He had perfected the purposely messy, wind-blown look. His hair was dark with a reddish tint where the lights hit it. None of them looked teenaged – the bear-like one seemed like he was old enough to be graduating college that year, the second looked about the same, maybe a year younger, and the last looked like he could be a second year college student. I wondered if they'd failed grades for a minute, but they had a look in their eyes like they knew more than average high school kids.

The two girls were the same. The first was an Amazon – tall with a loosely braided rope of golden hair down her back and long legs crossed at the knees like she owned the whole world. If she wasn't a model, then surely she was an aspiring actress – or a retired Aphrodite. The other girl wasn't tall like the others – she was actually a little on the short side – and her jet black hair was short and spiky. She was like a fairy, with pointed features and her body seemed lithe enough to fly off at any moment. They both dressed like they'd stepped out of a fashion magazine. The blonde wore tight fitting shirt with a jacket and pencil skirt that were barely acceptable by any school dress code. The black haired fairy wore rolled up jeans and an equally stylish black vest over a gray sleeveless v-neck. I admired their clothes and had an urge to ask them where they shopped.

The strangest thing about them – and it wasn't their snow skin, lone wolf aura, their eerie beauty, or their apparent sleepless nights – but it was that their eyes were the same color. They all had attractive features, but none were exactly alike – _except_ their eyes. A brown that was golden – like black pupils sitting in perfect amber stones.

They clearly wanted to be left alone – and the vibe that one should leave them alone was so strong I could feel it, like I was being pushed – but I felt something so drawing about them. Like a moth hovering around a porch light or a fly buzzing toward honey, only to get stuck and find escape is impossible – and even though I recognized that feeling, it didn't stop me from staring.

"Hey, Jessica," I called, getting her attention immediately. "Who…are they?"

She glanced over her shoulder and a slow smile spread across her lips. "I was wondering when you'd notice."

The younger-looking boy looked our way suddenly, looking first as Jess then at me. His eyes seemed to linger on me for a moment – but that was likely wishful thinking. I blinked and forced my eyes on the table.

"They were the talk of the town last year," she said with a giggle. "Now it's you."

"Are they…models? Or maybe actors?" I glanced at them again briefly but looked away again, even though they weren't looking. I felt guilty for meeting they eyes of that one. "Or maybe they struck oil."

Jessica sighed deeply. "I _wish_ they were actors." She leaned forward and raised an eyebrow suggestively at me. "I wouldn't mind seeing some of them on my screen, if you know what I mean. Especially Edward. Mm-_hmm_."

She leaned back and giggled. I blushed. I didn't know why, but my mind had raced ahead of me and placed him a late late-night movie I'd stumbled across a month ago, with the youngest as the leading man. I inhaled slowly and banished the thought. I didn't even know his name yet and I'd mentally de-clothed him.

I blinked. "Wait, so which one's Edward? The younger…looking…one?" I wasn't sure how to differ him from the others. If I said the really attractive one…well, that was a matter of opinion.

"Yeah. Dark hair. Kind of looks like a sexy emo." Jessica glanced over her shoulder again and surveyed their table. She nodded sharply once and turned back to me. "He has the look of someone who's been to too many funerals and forgot to buy any color other than black and _refuses_ to wear a smile. But he's definitely the best male eye candy that exists in real-time flesh and blood."

"Edward." His name sent shivers through me. I looked at him again.

He seemed to sense my eyes, because he looked me in the eyes again. This time the glance wasn't casual – it was cold and panicked. I looked away again. His stare felt dangerous.

"Edward Cullen. His sister is Alice Cullen – the puny girl with the crazy hair. Emmett Cullen is the body builder. Blondie is Rosalie Hale and then the one who look's pissed off all the time is Jasper Hale."

I looked at Jess, puzzling over the names she'd just given me. I struggled to put it into words. "You said…so they're siblings? They don't really look like siblings – maybe cousins, but…really?"

She giggled. "Yeah. Most of the town doesn't believe it either. It's pretty suspicious – that many kids in one house, and their legal guardians are young too."

"Their guardians?" I frowned. "You mean they don't have parents."

"Nope. Dr. Cullen and her husband adopted them," a girl beside Jess added. She had dark wavy hair and dark eyes. Her ruby lips smirked. "Dr. Cullen is the best doctor our town's ever had so the police puts up with them."

I furrowed my brow. "What do you mean 'puts up with them'?" Dad hadn't mentioned anything. I was worried I'd just become neighbors with delinquents.

The girl rolled her eyes and frowned. She leaned back lazily in her chair. "Well, they don't throw wild parties or get in fights if that's what you're thinking."

"They're very quiet," the orange-haired girl piped up. She smiled small, worried she'd accidentally butted in. "They're boring compared to most of the residents of Forks."

"Then what's the problem?" I demanded.

Jess leaned in close. Then the wavy-haired girl and the redhead did the same. I followed their lead, feeling foolish but also relieved that they'd included me in some girly pow-wow.

"Ever since they moved in," Jess whispered, "our missing person's rate went through the roof. Six missing people since they came to Forks last year."

"And animals try not to go anywhere near they're place," the wavy-haired girl said – I think her name was Lauren – her eyes excited bright and wide from the gossip. "My dad likes to hunt and track and stuff, and he says even a mile from their place, animals try not to get near."

"Why would they do that?" I whispered.

"Don't know," Lauren admitted. "But they say the wolf population is increasing. That hasn't happened in nearly two decades. And they're moving closer and closer to town."

"I thought wolves were always around Forks," I murmured. I was beginning to think they were making up the story to scare me.

"The wolf population decreased drastically about three decades ago," the redhead – whose name began with A – said confidently. "It was stable for two decades and now it's suddenly going up. It's weird, but not unheard of. Population sizes change all the time. It's part of the food chain. Predators die out when their prey is small. We probably just have more rabbits in the woods or something."

"Maybe Dr. Cullen is experimenting with rabbits in a basement lab and releasing them into the wild when she's done with them," Lauren offered. She shrugged. "I heard she promotes the use of new and riskier treatments. Maybe she tests it out first on poor defenseless bunnies."

I leaned back, tired of the gossiping and whispering. "That's ridiculous."

The three of them straightened up slowly. They looked at each other then back at me. I swallowed hard; worried I'd just ruined my chances. Gossip seemed to be a vital part of their friendship. Was I cut out now that I'd shot them down?

"You know, maybe you're only gossiping because they turned you down," Angie said. (I remembered her name now.)

"What?" Lauren shot her friend a hot glare.

"You too?" Jess sighed and frowned bitterly.

I looked back and forth at the two of them. Lauren was offended. Jess was disappointed. "Who did you ask out – Edward?"

"All of them," Angie answered before her friends could.

"Angie!" Jessica gave her friend a gentle shove.

My eyes widened. "All of them? Wow. You're brave."

"I asked out Emmett _before_ I knew he was dating Rosalie," Lauren elaborated, but she sounded like she was bragging. "When he said they were together, I asked Jasper out. He just looked at me with that crazy look he usually has and tried to walk away without answering. But then Alice said they were together." Lauren sighed heavily. "It's a mess. It feels a little incestuous. I mean, they all live in the same house – and their guardians, adoptive parents or whatever are the same. It's weird."

"I asked out Emmett and he said the same thing, he was with Rosalie," Jess prattled quickly. She leaned her chin into her palm. "It's Edward that pisses me off."

"Why?" I asked. Somehow – even though I'd never much liked gossip – I couldn't stop myself from wanting to hear more of the rumors, more about them.

"No one in Forks, Washington is good enough for Edward Cullen," Lauren said coldly. She rolled her eyes and turned her head as far away from him as possible. "He's turned down everyone who's ever asked him – guys and girls, the ones that are hot and the ones that are not, inside and out."

"You said they came to Forks last year," I pointed out. "Maybe he hasn't known anyone long enough."

Lauren scowled at me. "A year? Are you kidding?"

"Maybe he has a long-distance relationship," Angie suggested meekly. "He could have a girlfriend in another town."

I nodded. "That sounds possible." I nodded again. My heart fell to my feet. I'd tried not to get my hopes up, but when someone _that_ attractive is only a few feet away from you, how could a girl _not _get her hopes up?

"Well he needs to dump that girl and move on," Lauren ordered. "Seriously. Long-distance relationships are stupid."

"Not if you love someone," Angie said sweetly, smiling and nearly blushing.

Jessica started teasing her about some boy who'd moved away that Angie had dated. I tuned out as my eyes caught the small dark haired one named Alice start to talk. They whole table had been completely still and silent every time I'd looked at them _except_ now. Alice's lips were moving so quickly I couldn't make out one work. No one else seemed to move – except I might have caught Jasper's look of shock and stress become more shocked and stressed.

Edward turned his head toward his sister. His eyes flashed to meet mine. I jumped and looked away. That was twice he'd caught me staring. I didn't want him to think I was a creepy stalker chick. I was just a little curious – and stunned. I was mortifyingly stunned by their beauty, and super stunned by their irresistible pull.

The bell rung – sounding just as old and clanging as the first few times I'd heard it. I rose automatically. By the time I'd stood, the Cullens and the Hales were already out the door. Maybe that was why they sat so close – for a quick getaway.

None of the group I'd sat with had a classroom close to mine. Jess gave me a few quick directions then sped off to her own class. I got lost trying to find which turn to take, but made it to the Biology room just as the second bell went. There was seat left. I thought I was going to die.

Of all the gin joints in town, I had to walk into his. Edward Cullen sat next to the last available desk. The desks were in pairs of two. I was reluctant to get so close to him. He radiated an aura that told me he was like a tiger at the zoo – magnificent to watch, but it was better to stay on separate sides of the glass.

I slipped onto my chair as stealthy as I could – and dropped my pens on the floor by accident. I plucked them up quickly and tucked my hair behind my ear. I cleared my throat and swallowed. I felt like he was staring at me, even though it was a lot more likely he was ignoring me. I tried to sneak a look at him – my heart pounding like a jackhammer – when I realized he was sneaking a look at me. I forced myself to face straight and pretend I didn't feel – and see – his eyes on me.

The entire class, I could barely breath. I was afraid to. I found myself holding my breath and trying to look at him out of the corner of my eye. I didn't hear a word the teacher said. I'd taken notes, but only a few words hear and there; a lab due every month, a test after each unit, a list of the units and topics we'd cover. My focus was on Edward. I wasn't sure who was tenser one – him or I. He'd stopped looking at me early on, but his whole body had stiffened. He looked ready to murder someone – and he'd started looking crazed when he'd looked at me, so I was the likely victim. I had no clue what I'd done to upset him to badly.

A thousand explanations raced through my brain. Had catching my stare really make him that angry? Did I look a lot like someone he hated from where he used to live? Did Dr. Cullen not only do experiments on rabbits, but her son too – and he was turning into the _Hulk_? Was he just psychotic and today just happened to be the day he snapped? Had I missed something that had pissed him off that had absolutely nothing to do with me? Was I worrying for nothing? Maybe it would blow over?

I was concerned for my safety – and his sanity – throughout the class. When bell rang and he stood, I flinched as he moved. He didn't attack me. I'd been paranoid and silly. He rushed out the door without a glance back. I didn't know why, but I was shaking. Everyone else out the door by the time my legs were steady enough to stand. The teacher gave me a sideways glance but said nothing as I stumbled in the hall.

Before I could give the incident a second thought, Jessica appeared and looped her arm around mine, dragging me to my next class. I didn't know what to tell her so I let her talk my ears off about what happened in her class. Apparently Alice was in her class and she got up suddenly and left in the middle of class. It made me wonder if the Cullens were as weird as everyone suspected. Normally I was against gossip, but I was thinking this was gossip you could swear by.

The rest of my day was normal. I met more new faces. I went to class – learned nothing, took notes on everything – and drove home with Jessica's number added to my contact list. I had dinner with Dad and went to bed.

Sometime after midnight I woke with tears streaming down my cheeks, breathing heavy from a nightmare filled with fangs, blood, and murder. I saw Edward's face everywhere. I had to turn the light on until I could breath again. I chugged a glass of water and washed my face. I went back to bed, but every time I closed my eyes my heart started pounding.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: The first line of every chapter comes from the first line in the chapters from the actual book (Twilight by Stephenie Meyer). Hope you enjoyed this! Please review! I appreciate it!<p> 


	3. Chapter 2: Open Book

_2. OPEN BOOK_

THE NEXT DAY WAS BETTER…AND WORSE. It was better because I didn't see Edward all day. It was worse because I didn't see him all day. I worried he really had snapped and went on a murderous rampage – and I'd been _that_ close to being his first victim.

I tried not to think about him – or any of them – and for the whole morning I'd convinced myself to forget everything – the nightmares, the strange behavior in Biology class. I went to class (didn't learn anything I didn't already know) and went to lunch with the same group as the day before. A few new faces joined us. Our group had expanded. I was beginning to believe that I'd found a group to belong to.

When I saw Edward missing at the table where his adopted siblings sat, I told myself that the tightness in my chest was relief, not more worry. I told myself the same thing when he didn't show up in Biology. The truth, however, was that I was worried that I hadn't seen the last of Edward Cullen. Not by a long shot. I was on edge for the entire day, expecting to see him jump out at me from around corners.

My third day of school was easier. I wasn't as on edge – but I had to check over my shoulder every now and then – and seeing the empty spot at the Cullen's table gave me relief. Maybe Edward had been really stressed – really, really stressed – and had decided to take a few days off. Maybe when I saw him again he'd be the picture of mental health and calm. As long as I didn't face him _tomorrow_ I'd be okay.

A guy named Mike invited me to a party at his house. His parents were out of town for the weekend and it was mandatory for teens in Forks to throw at least one wild party when they're parents were away. It was Mike's turn and I was invited. I'd never been invited to a party before. My glee was probably too obvious. I practically shouted my answer at him. Thankfully, my enthusiasm just amused him. Jessica, Lauren, and Angie had already been invited. We would go together – as friends. It was another sign that things were getting better. The incident with Edward in Biology was just a fluke. It wouldn't happen again.

My fourth day of school – and the last day of the school week – came and went. Edward Cullen still hadn't returned. When I'd glanced at his table at lunch, there were two more empty chairs in addition to his. Instead of relief I was feeling guilt. Had I chased him away? Had I pissed him off so much that they're whole family was skipping? No. It was stupid, illogical – to think I could chase away people just from looking at them the wrong way just once. I pushed my worry to the back of my mind.

Saturday night came. I dressed up – even daring to put on mascara for once. I wore two-inch black heels. That was about as dressed up as I could get. (Well, there was another level up, but that was reserved for a formal occasion. As far as I knew, this was a casual party, where half the people present would be wasted minors.) I curled my hair and went to Angie's house, which wasn't more than a few doors down. Jess and Lauren met at Angie's house too. We drove over together in Angie's car. Angie was dubbed the designated driver for the night. I'd promised to stay sober with her, so she'd have fun too instead of babysitting Jess alone – as the rumor was that Jess was a wild drunk that needed to be watched carefully.

At Mike's party, the music blared and even shouting wasn't enough to understand each other. Angie and I used our own made-up sign language. Mike asked me to dance – and I discovered dancing and grinding were interchangeable – and I almost cried. The first time I was asked to dance and at my first party. I decided that I wouldn't think another second about Edward. Things were going to well to think about something so depressing.

Jess indeed got wild and drunk. Angie had to use force to keep Jess from stripping and many times had to plug her ears from the screeching sound of Jess's unforgettable singing voice. It was like nails on a chalkboard and screaming cats. Lauren got drunk as well, but she only slurred her words and repeated the same sentences often. She was boring compared to Jessica. Angie and I laughed at them both. Eric was a little tipsy, but he told a lot of great stories. Angie and I had more fun than anyone.

The following afternoon, Jess and Lauren couldn't remember if they'd had a good time or not. I made sure not to leave a single detail out when Jess called me in the afternoon. She's slept the entire morning – and a little into the afternoon – and still felt her head splitting open.

Sunday came and went. The weekend was over. Monday at school the stories were endless. Mike's party had gotten a few people in trouble. Angie and I had brought Jess and Lauren home about one in the morning, but the police had been called to Mike's two hours later. I felt a pang of guilt for being a part of such a rowdy party, but, even still, I didn't regret it. I didn't even regret it when Mike told me he couldn't remember the whole night.

I was completely carefree until I saw the Cullen's table. It was empty. It was surely a coincidence, but my promise not to think about Edward was broken. I wasn't afraid of him anymore, and I wasn't worried about him coming back – I wasn't worried about him _not _coming back – but I was curious.

In between a mouthful of the most delicious and cheesiest pasta my dad had ever made, I raised the big question at dinner.

"Dad, what do you know about…the Cullens?" I asked tentatively, dropping my gaze to my plate.

"As the Chief of the Forks Police, I know every family," he answered, logically and plain. "I've only met Dr. Esme Cullen and her husband once, maybe twice, but they're polite, good people."

I scooped a mouthful and chewed on his answer for a bit. He seemed to think it was just that simple. I wasn't satisfied with a simple answer.

"Their kids – their adopted kids – they're a bit…strange," I said slowly.

Dad froze. He looked up from his plate. It was the first time I'd seen him angry in years. "Don't listen to any rumors you hear about them, Isabella," he warned sternly. He pointed his fork at me. "People in this town like to talk. But that's all it is. Just talk." He stabbed his fork hard into his plate, so that it scratch loud and shrill. "We get a good doctor in this town who's willing to do anything to save a life – and just because she's a little different…just because her family's a little different."

I moved robotically, chewing and watching him. I'd forgotten how to act when he got upset. He was fierce. He seemed bigger and stronger than the man I called Dad.

"She's the first female doctor Forks has ever had," he told, tilting his head. "That's why people talk. They're not used to it. Forks has never been kind to those who are different, outsiders. Its prejudice – unreasonable and prejudice." He shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you, Beth. Their kids are better behaved than most in this town. They're quiet, private folk, but there's nothing wrong with that." He leaned back in his chair. "If you're not part of the events and the ones spreading the gossip, then you're the target of gossip. It's the way Forks' worked for generations. I wish it would change."

Dad picked up his fork and scooped some pasta into his mouth. He chewed for a minute before remembering I was there.

"So the Cullens aren't weird," I proposed. "The rumors I've heard aren't true."

"Not a word," he promised with a smile. "They're as normal as you and me. Except a doctor makes a little more than a policeman."

"What about Dr. Cullen's husband? Does he have a job?" I asked because it seemed weird that Mr. Cullen was a stay at home dad when his kids were already in high school.

"Um, I think he writes for travel magazines," Dad said, looking up, trying to search his memory for the answer. "I'm not sure. After his book sold a million copies, we threw him a party, but he didn't say what he'd be doing after that."

My jaw dropped. "A book? A million copies?"

Dad nodded and swallowed. "He used to be some sort of culture researcher. Wrote his book on the study of culture and its effects on history. Something like that – history and culture – and travel. That's all I know."

"That must be a cool job," I mumbled. I smiled. The Cullens weren't average, but they seemed a lot more _normal_ now that I'd heard Dad's side of the story.

"Writing?" Dad frowned. He didn't like the sound of it.

I nodded.

"What is it you plan to do after high school?"

I rolled my eyes and laughed. Now I knew why he didn't like the sound of it – because he worried it was my career choice.

"I'm undecided," I told him. "But it won't involve writing – or anything artsy. Maybe something in English – maybe a teacher?"

He paused and seemed to think it over. He smiled and nodded. Teacher was approved.

"Or maybe something in biology," I said, surprising myself when I blushed.

"I see nothing wrong with that," Dad said proudly, "as long as you're thinking about your future."

I nodded noncommittally. I didn't dare tell him that I could only think about my past in that moment. Until Edward came back to school I wasn't going to stop worrying about what had happened that day in Biology.

When I arrived in the parking lot Tuesday morning, I knew something had changed. For one thing, it had snowed. The ground was covered in sparkling white. I drove carefully and walked carefully, wanting to avoid any chance of slipping on ice. When I went to class, everyone was buzzing with excitement over the thick layer of snow. I was happy for a break from the rain, but I wished I'd dressed warmer. The air was so chilled that my skin was prickling and I shivered anytime I passed a window or came close to the doors. After a pop quiz in English class (which was very, very easy), I walked with Jessica and Mike to the cafeteria. Mike wanted a snowball fight. Jess didn't want to get her shirt wet – it had only been worn once before after all. I agreed to stick with Jess if Mike ditched us for the slinging wet chaos.

Mike, the boys, and Lauren ditched most of lunch to sling snowballs. Administrations quickly ushered everyone inside, saying the snowballs fights were inappropriate on school property. Mike and Lauren were sopping wet, but they just laughed. They'd had too much fun to feel the wet and cold. I shivered for them.

Angie broke into a spiel about the science behind snowflakes. I gulped back a soda and allowed myself a glance at the Cullen table, expecting nothing – instead choking in surprise. Angie patted my back and asked if I was all right. I convinced her I was fine and she continued with a story about a ski trip she'd gone on with her family a year ago. I blatantly stared at the Cullen table in disbelief.

They were all there. They were laughing – looking a million times less emo than usual. Edward was actually smiling. His eyes were brighter – pale gold instead of amber. Emmett and Jasper were dripping with melting snow. Alice was laughing her head off, her hand leaning heavily on Jasper's shoulder. Rosalie was smiling and laughing, but she looked more uptight than the rest – almost like she didn't know how to _not _be perfect and still. Edward had let loose more than her…but he wasn't the explosion of giggles that Emmett and Alice were.

I felt all my guilt recede. I hadn't chased Edward away. There was no way it had been my fault. I was a normal, non-threatening girl who'd coincidentally seen him on a really bad day. It was nothing more than that. I could forget it now with no regret.

"What are you staring at, Bella?" Jess whispered, nudging my in the side.

I caught his eyes flash to meet mine just as I tried to look away. I didn't catch his expression. I didn't want him catching me staring again – just in case there was any possibility that it had contributed to his freak out in Biology.

"I just noticed Edward is back," I said nonchalantly with a shrug. There was no need to let Jessica know I'd been obsessing.

She accepted my response and turned away, but did a double take over her shoulder. She smiled and nudged me again.

"Ow. You trying to leave a bruise?" I accused.

She giggled. "Guess who's returning the favor."

I pressed my eyebrows together and frowned. "What?"

"Edward Sullen is staring at _you_ now," she informed haughtily.

My whole body turned cold – and it had nothing to do with the snow. "Is he glaring?"

"No." She looked at me like I'd said something ridiculous.

"Does he look upset?"

She giggled. "No. Why would he be upset?" She peeked over her shoulder again. "He's smiling actually."

"Stop staring," I warned her.

"Maybe he thinks you're cute," she teased, shoving my gently. "Lucky, lucky, Bella."

"He doesn't think I'm cute," I grumbled. I dropped my head and leaned it against my arm. I closed my eyes and ignored the eyes watching me.

"What's wrong with her?" Lauren asked, not worried that I'd hear how unsympathetic her tone was.

"She's being watched," Jess mocked.

I raised my head. "I'm not being watched."

Jess smiled and looked in his direction. "Can you really say that when he's _still_ watching you?"

"Great," I groaned. He was plotting to murder me after all. He'd only returned to murder me. Unfinished business was the new black.

"Still looking!" She giggled again.

"Stop looking at him," I ordered. "You're being creepy." About as creepy as he was being. I was NOT looking forward to Biology today.

After the bell rang, I dawdled behind with Mike, Lauren, and Eric in the lunchroom. I wanted to avoid going to class for as long as possible. But although I delayed it for a minute, I still had to go to class and face my fears. I'd hoped to sit down just as the teacher launched into the lecture, but he was running late and Edward was already in his seat. I took a deep breath and forced myself to walk tall as I went over to my desk. I opened my notebook and took out a pen. I stared straight ahead, stone-faced and giving off signals that I didn't want to be talked to.

"Hello."

I jumped out of my seat.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

I turned reluctantly to face him. For a moment I thought the voice was an angel – or maybe a demon calling to tempt me to my doom – but I would never had suspected in a million years that Edward Sullen would willingly converse with me.

He was smiling friendly, and his voice was warm, but his eyes were a different story. They were definitely more gold than usual. The new shade was confusing. But if he was using colored contacts – or had stopped using colored contacts – that was his business.

His eyes were guarded. He was testing my response. I worried about_ his_ response if I failed his test.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he said. His voice was like the purr of a kitten – soft and warm for the sake of appearances – and perfect for hiding a sharpened set of claws. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. I didn't want you to think I was being rude."

"Okay," I mumbled. I was dumbstruck. I wasn't sure what he'd say or do next. I gripped my pen tightly.

"You are Bella Swan, correct?"

"Isabella." I mentally kicked myself. "I mean, my name is Isabella but I prefer Bella."

He frowned. "That's why I said Bella."

"Right." I smiled tightly and mentally kicked myself a few more times. I'd gotten so good at casual conversation over the last week, and now just the sight of him was making me forget how to speak. I needed to get my act together.

I faced forward and dropped the smile. It just wasn't fooling anyone.

"Do you like Forks so far?" he asked casually.

I turned to him and took a good, long, long look at him. Where was the mass murderer I'd imagined? This Edward was much too calm to be the same person I'd seen in my last Biology class. How was it that he was the calm one now and I was the one freaking out? I needed to see a doctor. Or maybe I needed more sleep. I wasn't getting any of the scary vibes I'd been getting before. He was a perfectly normal – albeit gorgeous – high school student.

"It's alright," I said quietly. I cleared my throat and spoke in a stronger voice. "I'm liking it so far. I think I'm nearly used to it."

"After only the first week?" he said with a laugh. "That's impressive."

"Thanks." I grinned. I didn't think he meant it when he said it was impressive, but I didn't want to start a war. If we were going to sit next to each other for all term one then I wanted to get along. "Then again, I was also born here, so maybe it's in my blood." I shrugged. "How about you? I heard you're not a local yourself."

His smile drooped a little, his eyes more guarded. "My family and I are settled in. It's home."

"Home," I echoed. I wondered if Forks would ever feel like home. It didn't feel like it yet, but maybe that was something to look forward to. "I'll keep my fingers crossed."

"You don't feel Forks is your home yet?" His smile was curious. His eyes watched me like I was a bird that could flutter away without a word of goodbye. He seemed to think our time together was meant to be short.

I didn't like the look in his eyes – or that I felt like an inferior creature around him – but I smiled politely and continued to act like he wasn't bothering me.

"I've never had a home," I confessed, "but maybe this will be my first."

"You moved around a lot," he said. It was a statement, not a question.

"How did you know?" I smiled uneasily.

His eyes flashed away for a second. His smile was gone. "People in Forks talk." He looked back with a renewed smile. "It seems the talk was right this time."

I frowned. "What else have you heard about me?" I had a sneaking suspicion that – if it was half as bad as what I'd heard about the Cullen family – he hadn't heard one thing right.

"Well," he said, pausing as he mulled over the right response. He probably had a lot of rumors to choose from. "You're the police chief's daughter."

I crossed my arms. "Yes." Who didn't know that by now?

"Your mother lives in Phoenix."

"Yeah," I agreed sadly. I'd called her on the weekend, but she'd been busy wall climbing with Phil. She'd never wanted to go all Spiderman when I was around. Phil made her more daring than I was used to.

He paused to study my face. It was weird. I felt like I was being watched under a microscope, and Edward was the lab-coat wearing mad scientist.

"What?"

"Forgive me if this is too personal," he said with an apologetic smile, "but why does thinking about your mother make you sad?"

I looked away and ignored the heat in my cheeks. It was definitely too personal a question for someone I'd spoken to for the first time – not to mention someone I thought was going through a psychotic break only a week ago. I didn't want Edward to know my dirty laundry. I didn't want Edward to get to know me at all.

"Is it really that weird to miss my mother?" I answered stiffly. It was mostly true, but saying it to him felt like a lie. "I've lived with her my whole life up until now. It's just weird not having her around."

He wore no smile as he stared at me now, reading my face, trying to solve me. He looked at me like I was a million-piece puzzle and he'd only solved the bottom right corner. He saw me as a challenge, and not a person. It sent a shiver up my spine.

"It's not a big mystery, you know," I told him. "I just moved here for high school. It's a welcome change."

"Were you tired of moving around?"

I nearly glared at him but caught myself in time. I calmed myself. I didn't know why I found it aggravating that he was curious about me – I didn't have any right to when I'd been asking all sorts of questions about him and his family. What harm could a few answers cause?

"A little tired, but Mom was planning on staying in Phoenix," I said. I tapped my fingertips on the desktop, my nails clacking against the faux wood. "She'd just remarried, so she wanted to start over, I guess." I tapped my fingers a few more times before the sound had managed to annoy even myself. "She was going to settle down in Phoenix for good. With Phil."

"But not with you?"

I whipped my head to look at him, angered that he'd even suggest that my mother would act so – well – non-mother-like. I was stopped by his expression. He pitied me. Great. Like I really needed the pity of someone like him?

"That's not what I said."

He leaned forward very slightly. "You implied it."

"No I didn't," I insisted. I faced forward again and re-crossed my arms. "If I had wanted to I could have stayed. I needed some space and a change of pace. In Forks I have something permanent and definite to look forward to." I shot him a sideways glance. "I don't like surprises."

His eyes widened slightly. "You moved to Forks because you don't like surprises?"

I nodded slowly. "There's nothing surprising here."

He chuckled and turned his chair toward me. "You've got that wrong."

I glanced at the door. Was the teacher planning to come to class? Or was this a plot against me, to force me to speak with Edward Cullen? I peeled my eyes away from the door to meet his gaze. I leaned toward him and he stiffened. His gold eyes lost some of their shine.

"What sort of surprises?" I demanded. I lowered my voice hoping not to attract the other chatty students in the class. "Does it have anything to do with why you're talking to me today – why you started cutting class right after you met me?"

His eyes darkened. "I don't know what you're implying, but I suggest you forget about it."

A shiver ran across my skin. I ignored it. I finally had Edward backed into a corner and I wasn't going to give that up.

"I don't know what it is about me that upsets you, but you need to either tell me so I can fix it or you need to get a grip," I warned coldly. "I came to Forks so I wouldn't be around death threats and people like _you_."

"People like me?" He looked at me incredulously – I was the pot calling the kettle black.

"People like you who pretend not to hate me, then do things like glare at me throughout class and say things behind my back," I accused. It was a little exaggerated, but how was I to know for sure that the reason he knew so many things about me wasn't because he was a gossip himself?

"I don't hate you," he said. His jaw clenched. "How could I? I don't even know you."

I leaned back. "If I've misunderstood you, I'm sorry. But don't play games with me. I've played enough times to know the rules and I'm not going to be fooled by your sudden nice guy act."

"It isn't an act," he said. His words felt hollow. His eyes, dark and regretful – like he'd realized for the first time that it might be an act.

Before either of us could say something more, the teacher walked in, called attention, and passed around the lab assignment. One person from each of the set of desks was asked to get the microscopes from the back. Edward was up and at the back of the room before I could move – and before anyone from the back row. He returned just as fast and started setting up as the lab sheet instructed. Slides were handed out next. In partners, we'd identify the stages of mitosis without using the textbook. There were eight slides and we had to correctly label them on the handout. The assignment wasn't the difficult part. It was partner that was giving me trepidation.

"Ladies first," he said. His voice was still tight, but his expression was calm.

I sighed and told myself to calm down too. He was trying to be civil, I was just being paranoid, and it was rude to not be civil in return.

We took turns identifying the slides. I didn't have any trouble – and neither did he. We were showing off to each other. It was an intense competition, but neither of us disagreed with the answers. The last two slides we tried identifying without the microscope first, to test our psychic powers. His were stronger than me. He knew without squinting at the slide that it was prophase. My guess for the last slide proved wrong. I was a little impressed – and I wasn't as resistant to his small talk this time. He'd proven enough for me to ignore the ominous feeling inside my head that told me the mystery of Edward Cullen was far from over.

We finished before everyone else. Mr. Vernon congratulated us on being two of the brightest students in his class. I wondered whom he considered the brightest. Probably Edward – or maybe the Asian girl in the back, with the long beautiful hair – the teacher looked at them both like they were the future or the world. I'd seen the girl's handwriting and it was the neatest I'd ever seen, not to mention she had the composure and calm of royalty. There was no doubt in my mind that she was a science nerd. Her glasses weren't nearly as dorky or thick as Eric's, but were thin, nearly invisible. She looked like a friend I'd had once, only this girl was petite, and barely taller than my shoulder. Her name was Erica Young.

"I'm sorry we got off to the wrong start," Edward said suddenly.

I tucked my hair behind my ears and looked down. "No. I'm sorry. I was jumping to conclusions. I'm really not used to so much attention."

He furrowed his brow for a moment. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"What? That I'm not an attention whore?" I laughed. "I don't think you need to apologize."

"I might be wrong," he said slowly, "but I think you just implied you've never had many friends."

I rolled my eyes to hide my embarrassment. "You seem to think I imply a lot." I stuck my pen cap back on and tossed the pen into my messenger bag. "I think you need to learn to read people better."

"Usually I do." He didn't sound like he was bragging only that it was fact. His expression was stern.

"Are you saying you read people easily?" I cocked a brow and frowned.

"_Usually_, I do," he repeated with a mocking grin.

I straightened up and took a long look at him. "But not me?"

"Not you," he confirmed. "It's frustrating."

I hesitated, but then pivoted my chair to face him head on. "Does _that_ have anything to do why you were upset last week?"

He leaned away from me and faced forward, staring intently at the whiteboard behind Mr. Vernon.

"Forgive me if it's too personal a question," I said gently, "but I don't want the reason you disappear next time to be because of me."

Edward's body stiffened and he looked at me, incredulous. He looked at me like I'd grown horns and maybe the bill of a duck.

"Why would you think I _disappeared_ because of you?" His eyes narrowed. "I didn't even speak to you that day."

I dropped my eyes to the floor. "I know." I sighed. "I just had a weird feeling that you really hated me, like you'd rather kill me than sit beside me." I shrugged and looked up at him.

He seemed paler – if that was possible. His eyes stared down, but he'd turned to face me.

"Was I crazy to think that?" I tried to meet his eyes, but he wouldn't look at me. I was nervous, thinking that maybe he was about to say my thoughts weren't far from the truth.

"Something unexpected came up that day," he said matter-of-factly. "That is all."

"So it wasn't me?" I smiled hopefully.

He met my gaze for a second before turning to face front again. He didn't say anything more.

I leaned back in my chair, and relaxed for the first time. Edward was just a normal guy. Maybe he'd received a phone call that his long-distance girlfriend wanted to break up…or his uncle died. Whatever reason he'd had for being pissed and taking off, it was nothing to do with me. He'd said so – well, _implied_ so. If his implications were anything like mine, then that was the truth and the end of all my worries.

Mr. Vernon opened the door and a gust of air swept through along with a stab of cold air. Someone must have left one of the exterior doors opened. The lab handout flew over to my side, just over the desk. I reached for it a second after Edward did. His fingers grabbed it easily, and my fingers brushed his hand. I flinched away from the unnatural iciness of his skin. There was no heat, no life in his skin, like he was made of snow.

I stared, wide-eyed and terrified. He avoided my eyes. I closed my eyes and quickly turned away. I drew an unsteady breath. For a moment, the cold had sent a wave of warning through me. My stomach did flip-flops, telling me to never get that close to Edward again.

The bell rang. Edward was out the door before I could say goodbye – before the teacher had even officially dismissed us.

The end of the day came quickly, mostly because it was uneventful. I went out to the parking lot with my key in hand, but stopped when my eye caught the shimmering snow. I cupped a bundle in my hand and held it for a moment. I threw it back and wiped my hand off on my jeans. Edward's skin wasn't as cold as snow, but it wasn't _warm_. Either he was seriously ill or he wasn't human. Seeing as the last known case of a non-human human was never, I was going with seriously ill. I felt guilty for being so quick to accuse him. What if he was dying of some incurable disease? What if the Cullens and the Hales were adopted because they had a disease that made them less appealing at the orphanage and Dr. Cullen was so kind-hearted that she had adopted them and dedicated her life to finding a cure!

My imagination had run wild. I mentally kicked myself hard and hopped into my truck. I was probably going to need gas soon, so I'd have to fill it up before I got home. Man, the inconvenience on not having gas magically fill the tank was really annoying at times.

The engine roared to life. I checked around and just as I was ready to pull out, some flashy car a much fresher cherry red than mine zoomed in front of me, dashing out of the lot. I barely had time to recognize the pale skin and stoic expressions. Rosalie Hale was in the driver's seat, driving away with Jasper Hale and Emmett Cullen. I envied the car, but cursed her driving. Didn't her adoptive parents ever teach her to look both ways before zooming out – or how about patience? Rosalie didn't strike me as the patient type, so maybe not.

My eyes automatically searched for Edward. If he wasn't with his siblings, then how was he getting home? Was he trying out for an after school team? Or did he have his own flashy ride? I had my fingers crossed it wasn't a Porsche. I'd have to carjack him.

I found Edward by a car, all right. Keys in the car door, speaking to his sister, Alice Cullen. It was a boring car. It wasn't flashy – although it was so clean, and polished that it shined. I squinted to make out the brand name of the car. I slammed the dashboard when read it. Of course it was an expensive foreign car. It wasn't a cherry red hotrod, but it cost more pennies than a lifetime of piggybanks could manage. I was wondering if maybe I should've told Dad I wanted to be a doctor, to buy shiny, polished imported things. Too bad I'd make a terrible doctor.

I must've been watching Edward and Alice talk for at least a couple minutes. Alice was calm, but her body was tense. She was warning him – or maybe trying to calm him down. Edward looked like he was trying not to shout, but was having a hard time. He looked too stressed. Maybe he was dying of an incurable illness. That would cause some stress – fancy car or not.

Alice smiled and nodded her head in my direction. I sat up straight. There was no way she knew I was watching. She hadn't looked over once.

Edward turned and looked at me. I fumbled at the keys and the steering wheel. I double-checked to pull away, and then briefly glanced in their direction just to be sure…and he was already in the car.

I didn't know why I felt so disappointed, but I couldn't linger on the feeling. I pulled out of the lot and didn't glance in their direction again. I pulled out by the stop sign and waited as a car drove by me. I felt eyes on my back. I glanced up at my rearview mirror. I was mortified to see Edward staring at me from the car behind. I pulled ahead of the white line and drove on, grateful when I turned left and he turned right. I tried to ignore it – but I was almost certain – I'd seen Alice Cullen laughing at me in the rearview mirror.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: Another chapter! Hope you liked it...but, whether you did or didn't, please review! It means a lot to me! PS Yes, I made the doctor Mrs. Cullen. If you're thinking "Why the heck would you do that?", don't fret. I plan to give more of an explanation as to why Esme is a doctor in an upcoming chapter.<p>

But if you want an explanation now, here's a short version: If you were immortal, would you want to be a housewife the whole time?

(If you just answered yes, know that you're the kind of vampire that would not only be very bored, but slight suicidal. If you're immortal, you need hobbies.)


	4. Chapter 3: Phenomenon

_3. PHENOMENON_

WHEN I OPENED MY EYES IN THE MORNING, SOMETHING WAS DIFFERENT. Sure enough, Dad had made bacon and pancakes. It was a welcoming smell. There was no better way to great a blisteringly windy day than bacon and pancakes. I got dressed quickly in dark blue jeans and a thick white wool sweater. My hair was a mess so I brushed it a dozen times and wore my white headband. I was feeling so good that I even wore my snowflake earrings Mom had given me for Christmas two years past. I had a feeling that something exciting would happen. I was looking forward to it.

Dad greeted me with a "Good morning, kiddo," and kissed my forehead. "I made you chocolate chip pancakes."

I stared at the plate of pancakes with my mouth watering. "When did you have time to buy chocolate chips?"

"Well, you've been doing so well, keeping up a good attitude, that I wanted to reward you." He handed me a plate with a handful of bacon. "Eat up. If there's one thing I can make great, it's bacon and pancakes."

I rolled my eyes and gripped. "Dad, how can someone make bacon _bad_?" I scooped a pancake onto my plate and poured the syrup. "Besides, you're a great cook. A lot better than Mom – she knows how to make Mac n' Cheese. That's it."

He tilted his head then nodded. He probably remembered her bland cooking from the short time they were married. I barely remembered the taste myself, and I'd lived with her for years. That's how bland it was. Dad was a chef by comparison. The Chief chef.

Dad hurried off to the station as I gobbled down my breakfast. I probably ate too much bacon, but it was too delicious to resist. I threw on my jacket and grabbed my back. I took my keys and locked the door behind me. Even with the snow spitting against my face (sticking to my skin, then quickly melting) and the wind howling, I was not going to let the weather get me down.

On the drive over, I thought to myself about the upcoming events. Jess said the school year's first dance was not to be missed if I wanted people to know my face. Plus they hired a DJ. Not that it was a real DJ – just Jess's older brother – but it was better than no DJ. The music and the dance floor scandals were – supposedly – to die for. That meant I'd probably want to go. The question was, who with?

I'd had a great time just hanging with the girls – well, mainly Angie because Lauren and Jess were too drunk to be considered conscious – at Mike's party. This was a dance though. Jess said we'd have to go to Port Angeles to buy dresses and everything. If Eric asked me, I might turn him down. But if Mike was available…I wasn't sure what I'd do. It was a bit presumptuous to assume either one of them would want to ask me to the dance, but I had a real social life for the first time. I wanted to charge on ahead with it. I was going to do anything to find the place I belonged – and the people I belonged with.

I wondered if the Cullens went to school dances or were invited to parties. None of them were at Mike's party. I felt a pang of guilt that they were just like me – with no one but themselves to spend their time with. Maybe if Edward didn't make me feel paranoid I'd invite him to the next party I attended. I couldn't imagine him at a rowdy house party. I wondered if he'd stay in a corner like in the lunchroom or if he'd chug beers with Mike's friend Stanley.

The drive was surprisingly steady. With all the ice on the road I'd expected to slip once or twice. Somehow, I was a better driver than I thought. Or maybe my wheels just had great traction. I parked in the school lot and went out to inspect the wheels. To my surprise it wasn't the wheels that had traction, but the chains wrapped around them. Dad had spoiled me with bacon, pancakes, and chains for my tires. I'd have to give him a huge hug and think of a way to properly thank him later.

All too quickly I heard a strange, high-pitched squeal. I spun my head toward the noise. People gathered at the school doors, just leaving the lot stopped to stare as two cars hit in the lot. I saw the Cullens on the sidewalk by the doors, Edward and Alice by their silver car. The crunch of metal and a honked horn alerted me to the danger I was in. The hit had caused enough momentum to send a pale blue van spinning my way.

My skin felt like I'd been electrocuted. I motioned to jump out of the way, but fumbled. I slipped and fell back. I scrambled to stand, but my throbbing wrist made it difficult to push myself up. I'd landed on black ice, no doubt, and I'd run out of time to get out of the way. I looked up as the car swooped toward me. I inhaled deeply, knowing I wouldn't have enough time to scream before I was crushed.

I was expecting the hard slam of impact, but I wasn't expecting the slam against the back of my own truck to be the end of it. I was expecting to be hit from in _front_, instead of banging into something behind me. I'd closed my eyes without realizing it. I opened them to see two things. One, I wasn't being crushed by the van. Two, Edward was hovering overtop of me and – in a half second – pushed the van away – like it was a helium balloon – so that we weren't forced into nose to nose proximity. The close space had not only confirmed that his pores were great (and his skin was still cold), but he had definitely lifted that van. For a sickly guy, he was awfully strong.

"Bella, are you alright?" he asked.

I stared, dumbfounded. How the _hell_ had he done that?

Voices raised in the sudden silence. The screeching and crashing had stopped, leaving people to flock closer. I heard a few voices call my name.

"Bella, are you alright?" Edward demanded. He grabbed my arms, gently so it wouldn't hurt me but strong enough to wake me from my shock.

"I'm fine." It was an automatic response. I realized very quickly it was a lie.

"You're bleeding, Bella," he said venomously. "You're not fine."

My head was pounding and I felt like the back had been hit with Thor's hammer. I reached to touch it and winced as the touch stung. I looked at my fingers and saw he was right. There was definitely blood. Edward watched the blood with wild eyes, like he was terrified of my blood – or maybe he wanted to suck on my bloodied fingers like a lollipop. He looked possessed. I made me feel sicker than I already was. I felt I would never want to eat again.

It wasn't that much blood, but if I'd hit my head hard enough to draw blood then I was certainly NOT fine. My wrist felt broken too. I wasn't a doctor but it did feel like it was split in half, or maybe just twisted 360 degrees.

"OW, ow, ow, _OW_, " I chanted. I tried to grasp my wrist, but it hurt to touch it. I held onto my arm instead and tried to keep breathing regularly. "Damn, that hurts."

"You'll be fine," he said. He sounded uncertain, and almost like he was trying to convince himself instead of me. He was breathing heavily.

"We need to call an ambulance," someone shouted. I recognized the voice quickly as my English teacher. "Margaret. Your cell phone."

"Right, sure." The girl with a high-pitched and shaking voice, Margaret, must have pulled out her phone. I heard her talking to a dispatcher.

"Oh my God, Bella!" That was Jess. I could see her head over the front of the van. She waddled toward me, cautious of the ice. "Are you okay?"

Edward flinched away when Jess got close. He stood and stepped far back from me. He left room for Jess and a teacher I didn't recognize to crouch around me.

"Bella, can you talk?" Jess asked nervously. She sounded like she might cry.

"Yeah." I went to nod, but it made the pounding worse. "Yes, I can talk. I feel a little off though. I banged my head really good." I showed her the blood on my fingers. I winced as movement made my wrist sting. "And my wrist hurts. Ouch."

The teacher tried to inspect me. I told her I thought my wrist was broken. She assured me I was exaggerating and it was only sprained. She was really worried about my head though. She wouldn't let me get up until the paramedics came and checked me out. My butt felt not only bruised but also frozen. The silver lining was that the cold would numb the pain I felt from falling on my ass. That didn't stop the embarrassment. I'd practically injured myself because I was too clumsy to get out of the way in time.

"Where did Edward go?" I looked around by his was out of my field of vision.

"Was Edward hurt?" the teacher asked. She looked around in a panic; probably worried he had a concussion and would pass out somewhere because he didn't have his butt frozen in snow like I did.

"No. I don't know. I think he was fine." I went to touch my hand to my head again, but the teacher instructed that it was better that I didn't poke at it. "I think the bleeding stopped."

The teacher scooted around me and pulled my hair out of the way to take a good look. She nodded. "It looks that way."

The ambulance ride was long and tiring. It didn't calm keep my nerves down either when I heard I was the least injured of the crash victims. I was the only pedestrian victim. At the hospital I overheard more details as I was checked, re-checked and my brain was scanned. My head felt like scrambled eggs, but there was no serious damage. The worst was my sprained wrist, which I got wrapped in some Velcro contraption that looked like padding you'd wear rollerblading in case of a fall – not after a fall. But the nurse insisted it was for the best. Apparently the cut on the back of my head as nothing more than that –a cut – and a bruise that would making sleeping difficult for a night or two. Lucky for me I slept on my side.

I eventually heard the story from Jess, who showed up in the waiting room – along with my father and the rest of my school friends. Jess had to fight with my father to ask about my condition, what the doctors said, to ask if I was feeling dizzy (over and over), and so many pointless questions. Dad insisted he was going to see to it that whichever dumbass kid almost hit me had his license taken. Of course he changed his tune when Jess shared the details she'd heard—and how badly the driver, Tyler, had been hurt.

It was all the result of black ice and not enough caution. But own rear end was still feeling the effects of black ice. I'd been so certain I was done for when I slipped and fell. But I'd had a knight in armor charge in at the last minute. At the last possible moment, he was there. Impossibly, he was there, moving from one end of the parking lot to the other in half a second.

"Well, the doc did a good job," Dad congratulated as he looked me over nervously.

"Yeah. My head's patched up and my wrist is tied down," I said with a nervous laugh. "Stitches are a bi—ugh, are hell." I blushed as I caught myself almost cussing in front of my police chief father. I'd be grounded for sure if I'd finished that one little word.

Dad gave me a quick look that said he knew exactly what kind of language I'd been tempted to use. It didn't matter to him that everyone did it. His daughter was not a follow-the-crowd sort of person. Not if she wanted the privileges that came with not getting grounded and receiving lectures.

"Oh, and I met Dr. Cullen," I said quickly to distract him. "She was…really sweet."

The distraction worked. His expression softened. Something told me that if weren't for Dr. Cullen being already married, Dad would be flirting with her in that moment. But Dad had principles, and that included not imagining seducing married women.

"I'll have to thank her the next time I see her around," he said distractedly.

"And how often exactly do you see her around?" I frowned, eyebrows pressed together, wondering what reason Dad would have for seeing a doctor so often.

"Not often," he admitted. "But I did get shot a couple months back. She really helped me out then."

I gasped and gaped. "Why didn't you tell me? And how? And why?"

"Long story," he said, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. "Criminal trying to escape—cross state lines. No big deal."

I considered making a big deal out of it, but I knew it was a bad idea. I was just hyped up from the anxiety and panic of being in a nearly fatal car accident and then facing the mother of my knight in shining armor.

I was sitting on a cot, arm already in a sling, awaiting stitches for my head. I was trying not to hyperventilate knowing that a needle and thread—or whatever they used—was about to be poked through my scalp. That's when she appeared.

My first thought was that I had hyperventilated and died, because I was sure she was an angel. Soft and warm…Her expression welcoming and calming. She seemed to be glowing. Her body was rounded with soft curves. She wasn't the thin beauty that you saw on a magazine cover. Everything about her was motherly. Her honey-brown hair was tied neatly and tightly in a braid, the end curling underneath in a natural way that I could only achieve with several cans of hairspray and hours of trying to force my hair to curl neatly. Her face was pale like the other Cullens. Her nose was round, petite, cute. Her lips plump, soft—perfect for kissing babies. Somehow it was hard to see her without a baby in her arms. Now wonder she had so many kids—adopted or not, she was made to be a mother.

"Hello, Bella," she introduced. Her voice was just as soft as her features. Warm like melted chocolate, sweet like sun-warmed honey. "I'm Dr. Cullen. I'm here to stitch your head. Let's take a quick look first."

I barely moved. She moved the wrapping pressed over the gash in me head. Her fingers brushed my skin just barely, but I felt the chill. She was just like the others.

The shiver that ran over my skin when she touched me told me to check her eyes, to see if she had that same weird personality that Edward had.

Her eyes—warm, bright—were a cover. I could see questioning underneath the brightness. It was the same feeling that I felt, hidden in her eyes. Instead of me being the only one with wondering and watching cautiously – like I was doing with her and her son – she was watching me in the same way. But what danger could I possibly pose to her?

"Well, it's not as bad as I thought it would be," she said, "based on the story I heard. You're lucky that car slowed before it hit you."

"Yeah," I said quickly. And then, under my breath, "And lucky Edward showed up."

"Edward?" she said. It was obvious she was pretending to be surprised. She had the needle in hand now, ready to begin.

"Ah, yeah, Edward," I said to stall, knowing the amount of pain I experienced now was all up to her. "Edward Cullen. I guess that's your son."

"Yes," she confirmed. She threaded the needle through my skin.

I tried not to flinch or move. I knew from the first stitch that this was not an experience I wanted to repeat. Never. Never ever, not even if it meant I wouldn't heal, I would NOT be getting stitches again. I'd also have to be extra cautious not to get accidentally hit by a car again.

"I'm lucky he was _nearby_," I said. I was worried that if there was some secret – like Edward had super speed and was one of the X-Men – Dr. Cullen wouldn't be upset by my not-as-subtle-as-I-would've-liked hint. I did want answers, so I didn't regret saying it. "If he'd been farther away, say…the opposite end of the parking lot…I would be in a lot worse shape."

"Yes," she said. Her tone was less happy, cheery and motherly. It was guarded. The smile in her voice was being faked now.

Yes, there was a secret. I had definitely seen Edward too far away to be at my side so quickly. I had definitely seen him push that car away easier than pushing away a tin can. My brain had been checked. I hadn't been seeing things. There was suddenly no doubt in my mind that something beyond weird was going on. The only doubt I did have was more painful than the five stitches threaded through my scalp.

Edward. He'd saved me. He'd purposely tried to save me. He'd spoken to me with concern and fear that I was hurt. The scary Edward I'd been so freaked about—where had he gone? In that moment, there was a whole new Edward. I wanted to meet him again.

"All done," Dr. Cullen said cheerfully. "You'll be healed in no time. Try to avoid any head banging or falls for now."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. "I definitely had that planned."

She put her hand on my shoulder. "Take it easy."

"Thanks," I said quietly, "Doctor…Cullen." I forced a crooked but grateful smile. I was still worried about that look in her eyes that said I was dangerous, but I was grateful she'd closed the gash in my head. "Now I only have one more person to thank."

"Oh?" she said questioningly. "Who?"

"Edward," I answered. "I didn't have a chance before. Well, I did, but I was a little more focused on the panic and pain than gratefulness. I should make up for it now. He kept me out of the way of the worst of it."

Her lips pressed against each other for a split second. The worry vanished, replaced with a warm smile once again. "Hopefully I won't need to see you again."

Her back turned and she walked away with the grace of a jungle cat. I fought against a shiver unsuccessfully. I couldn't help realizing her words means she didn't want to see me again, and not for medical reasons.

I didn't tell my Dad about the weird parting words Dr. Cullen had left me with. I didn't tell him about the super save by Edward. The same instincts that had told me the Cullens were suspicious and Edward wasn't your average human were telling me that Dad couldn't know. My only hope was that I wouldn't regret that decision later.

Jess was acting clingy, and Dad was fussing. It was a little annoying, but even though I told them that they didn't have to worry, it made me happy. There wasn't a better feeling in the world than knowing someone cared. I'd been afraid Jess was just being friendly and not trying to be a friend, but she was truly concerned. It was sort of Dad's responsibility to be concerned, but Jess wasn't required to fuss. None of my school friends were required to be there. But there they were, insisting that we do something to celebrate me being alive and mostly well.

Just when the planning started—Mike mentioning a beach and Jess insisting a party at her house—when I caught a glimpse of my hero. Edward disappeared around the corner as quickly as he'd appeared. I excused myself, saying I had to use the bathroom. Angie offered to come with, but I told her I really just needed a second alone to finish processing everything that had happened. I knew Angie would get it. And she did. And it wasn't really a lie—except for the alone part. I needed Edward to explain a little so I could process what really happened.

I sped walked around the corner. He was at the end of the hall.

"Edward! Wait!" I called as I rushed to catch up. Well, I didn't rush too hard. I worried my head wouldn't respond well.

He paused, seeming indecisive about whether to face the person calling him. He looked over his shoulder, saw me, and waited. His expression was a non-expression. His lips were a flat line and his eyes were guarded.

"Hey," I said, smiling broadly. "I was hoping you'd turn up."

His eyebrows tilted down ever so slightly, just a hint of surprise. "Why is that?"

"Because I wanted to thank you," I said, laughing. Wasn't it obvious? "You saved me. So thank you."

He hesitated. "You're welcome."

I took a deep breath and bit my lip. It was no or never. I exhaled and glanced down at the floor. "So how did you do it?"

He hesitated again. "I just pulled you back a bit. Tyler's car was slowing down anyway. I just moved you enough to avoid the real impact."

"Okay, so that's the cover story." I lifted my eyes to meet his. "Now tell me the real story."

His eyes hardened. "That is the real story."

"No, that's what you want everyone else to think," I said sharply, "but I'm not pretending to be oblivious. I want the truth."

"Why would I lie to you?" he said.

"To protect you're secret," I said.

"I don't have a secret," he insisted. His jaw had tightened. His words were biting. He was giving off murderous vibes.

"Seriously?" I smirked and cocked a brow. "Everyone has secrets, Edward. But yours is a lot bigger than I'm capable of guessing at. So make it easier on both of us and just spill."

"There's nothing to tell." He moved abruptly, two feet ahead of me before I could blink.

I hurried to follow him. "Come on, you were at the other end of the parking lot one second, then pushing a car away from me the next! And now you're pretending it didn't happen. I'd say there's something big to tell just in that."

Edward didn't speak. His only response was the quickening of his pace and the tightening of his jaw.

I was having trouble keeping up. He was one fast walker. Maybe it was that his tallness made him capable of taking long strides—or maybe it was that super speed of his—that made it difficult to keep up with him. If he managed to walk any fast, I'd have to start running to keep up. As it was I was almost jogging.

"Just stop for a minute," I shouted in frustration.

He stopped so sharply and suddenly that before I'd realized he'd stopped I was several steps ahead of him. I walked back and stood in front of him. I put on my determined face. He avoided meeting my eyes for a long, silent moment. When he did look me in the eye, I could tell his determined expression was much stronger than mine.

"C'mon, Edward," I pleaded. "Just tell me what you are!"

His eyes flared with anger, burning and dangerous. "_What_ I am?"

"Poor choice of words," I admitted, flinching back an inch or two under his glare. "But I want—I need to know—"

"A poor choice of words," he repeated in a tight, low voice. His mouth twitched into a scowl. "We're done talking."

He moved past me quickly, fluidly. He was about to turn the corner when panic and anger welled up inside me and I yelled after him. I jumped in front of him, ignoring the feeling in my gut that told me he'd rather shove me into the wall than stop for me.

"Do you have a split personality disorder?" I demanded. "If not, I'd appreciate it if you stop pulling a Katy Perry on me."

The heat in his glare subsided slightly to show a flicker of confusion. "Katy Perry?"

"You're hot then you're cold, you're yes then you're no, one minute you're saving my life and the next you look like you want to stab me with a knife," I explained speedily. "If saving me was going to piss you off this much, you should've let the car squash me!"

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." The fiery anger was completely gone from him expression. He was cold, shut off, resisting responses to anything I did or said.

"So, it would be easier for you if I had died," I said angrily. I felt hurt. I felt sad, but I couldn't show any emotion other than anger and bitterness.

He didn't say yes, but his eyes—biting and sharp—showed me a clear answer. He'd be a much happier person if I weren't around. He hated me. He'd only saved me to keep up the ruse, to fake that he wanted to be civil with me.

"Fine," I said, feeling close to tears. "I get it." I nodded and breathed in deeply, shaking. "You don't like me. You don't trust me." I moved around him to head back to where people were waiting—people who wanted me alive. "Keep your secret. I don't want to know."

I didn't get far. I was half way down the hall.

"Wait." He sighed, heavily, sounding regretful. "Bella."

I reluctantly stopped and looked over my shoulder. He was directly behind me. I jumped, surprised to see him so close when his voice had sounded much farther away. But then, why was I surprised? I knew he wasn't normal.

"What? Ready to confess?" I smirked, but I knew the answer was no.

"No." He held out his hand. "I found this."

My left hand leapt to my earlobe and my right reached for the glistening plastic snowflake sitting on Edward's palm.

"Where did you get it?" I asked. "I didn't even realize it was missing."

I took the earring from his hand, not missing the opportunity to re-check the temperature of his skin with my fingertips. He was still too cold.

"I happened to spy it in the snow," he said. It was an obvious lie. He'd definitely looked for it.

"It's not easy to spy a snowflake in a snow bank," I said with a smirk. I wrapped my fingers around the earring. My heart was fluttering, feeling light and warm.

"Sure it is," he said casually. "There are lots of them. Like finding hay in a haystack."

I giggled. My hand shot to my mouth when I realized how pathetic my laugh sounded—a real, girlish giggle. My cheeks were aflame and my anger was forgotten.

"Um, thanks," I said. "You're doubly my hero now. My life and an earring…all in one day…how do you manage it?"

"With great difficulty," he answered solemnly.

"Well, I owe you one," I admitted, "so I'll stop bugging you about…you know."

His eyes narrowed. "I don't have anything to hide."

I nodded and pressed my lips together. I made a zipping motion against my lips to let him know I'd keep quiet. Whatever his big secret was, he'd used it to save my life. He deserved my silence. For now.

"I don't have anything to hide," he insisted, sounding more aggravated than ever.

I nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely."

He stepped forward, mouth wide open, likely ready to launch into a lecture. He stopped himself, turning on his heels. He couldn't handle any more interaction with me.

"See you at school, Edward," I called after him. I saluted his back and walked back to the waiting room, still tightly clutching my snowflake earring.

When I got back to the waiting room, Julia and the gang were still debating over how to celebrate. Dad looked at me anxiously.

"What?" I asked, still feeling high off my girlish giddiness. "Don't tell me you have bad news. What's worse for me than getting stitches?"

"I…called your mother," he confessed.

"Aw, man," I groaned.

"She yelled at me for a bit," he said. "So she'll having nothing but sympathy and comforting words when you call her."

I sighed. I felt bad that mom had probably chewed dad out for no good reason, but at least that meant most of her mom-energy had been used up. I just had to say I was fine a few times and she'd be calm, leave me be without worrying needlessly.

"Thanks for the head's up," I muttered.

"She wants you to call ASAP," he warned.

When Dad used 'ASAP', it was an emergency. I would have to call her without having time to compose myself and think up a way to downplay the drama and action of the car accident escapade.

So that's what I did. I called Mom the second I walked in the door. I used a water-downed version of what Edward had insisted was the truth. A simple, 'a friend of mine from school was nearby and managed to drag me out of the way in time' was enough for her.

After insisting that I was fine ten times, and telling her that my only worry was about the driver who'd been worse off than me, and Mom was convinced. Then she went on for an hour about things she and Phil were doing together. She was considering skydiving. They had a pet bearded dragon. I wasn't a fan of lizards, but I congratulated her on having such a non-bland pet. Although, rather than a reptile, I liked the idea of having a pet dog better. I liked dogs. I used to fantasize about having a wolf for a pet that'd do tricks and go on adventures with me, the kind of adventures that only happen in books. But what were the chances of me having a wolf for a best friend?

I was on the phone with Mom for two hours. The long conversations combined with the excitement of the day had me drained of all my energy. I watched some TV for a bit, knowing it was too early to go to bed, but I was tired. While I was forced to go home, the rest of my friends had gone back to school for the afternoon. I didn't feel like schoolwork, but sitting at home was boring.

At five o'clock sharp I gave up on resisting sleep. Dad gave me a worried look when I insisted on going to bed without supper, but he saw how tired I looked and didn't put up a fuss.

I feel asleep with great difficulty. Thoughts and worries were scrambling in my head, trying to surface as I pushed them deeper and deeper into the back of my mind. The harder I pushed, the harder they tried to spring to the front of my mind. With what had happened to me, was there any doubt I'd dream of Edward Cullen?

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: So at this point, the story is still following the book closely, but things will start to detour soon... Please review! I hope you enjoyed the read!<p> 


	5. Chapter 4: Invitations

_4. INVITATIONS_

IN MY DREAM IT WAS VERY DARK, and the only dim light came from Edward's skin, so pale he glowed.

I'd dreamed of Edward before, but that had been blood and sharp teeth and feelings of fright. This was the opposite. In this darkness, Edward was the only light. I'd try to reach for him, but my feet moved backward. The more I struggled to get closer, the farther away I got. But just when I thought I was so far I'd never see him again, he'd reach out his hand and I'd be in front of him again, looking down as a snowflake landed on his palm. Snow started falling then. I felt frozen.

"I'll only hurt you," he told me. His voice was alluring, wanting me to come closer.

"I know," I said. Snow landed on me, turning instantly to water when it touched my skin.

"I want to hurt you," he warned with a smile. His eyes were hungry.

"I know." I lifted my hand, my fingers hovering over his hand.

"I will kill you," he insisted. "There's nothing you can do."

"I know," I said. "That's why I'm not turning back."

I touched his hand and the snow stopped.

That's when I was suddenly pulled back, vacuumed back and upwards by a strong wind. I screamed and reached for Edward, but he was motionless. He didn't try to rescue me. He only waited. His hand always stretched out, waiting for me to grasp it.

I had this dream every night. It varied sometimes, the details changing. The snow became rain, his eyes became colder, and my screaming was louder as I was sucked away. One night there was my biology teacher reminding me that my thesis wasn't complete enough and my lab report wasn't long enough, rather than wind pulling me away.

The next two months of school were bland. People eventually stopped talking about the car accident. There was a party at Jessica's to celebrate me not being squashed. It involved jenga, Go Fish, and then followed by a humiliating game of Monopoly where I lost absolutely everything. It was the most fun I'd had with my friends—and it was yet another reminder that they were my friends.

Tyler, the driver who'd almost squashed me, was relentless in his apologies the day he was back in school. He'd been scratched, dislocated his shoulder and gashed his head so much worse than I had. He'd had a concussion, which was something I was glad to be without. He promised to make it up for me. I told him that just driving carefully and taking time to heal was good enough for me. Tyler seemed to think that taking me out was the only way to earn my forgiveness. He was determined. Even when I turned him down the first time, he started sitting beside me at lunch and subtly joined his group of friends with mine. He asked a couple more times before I agreed to go out with him one time.

We were at my locker when Tyler asked me, practically begging. I'd warmed up to him, so I was already beginning to cave. He wasn't a supermodel, but he was nice-looking, he had a decent sense of humor, and he had the tendency to flattery me obsessively. But it wasn't until I saw Edward standing in the hall, eyes locked on me, looking torn between furiously stomping my way and walking away without wasting another thought on me. I could only think of his outstretched hand in my dream. I said yes to Tyler so fast that I didn't realize I'd said it at first—and neither did Tyler.

"Did you say yes?" He looked stunned, but his lips curled into a triumphant grin.

I nodded once. "I…yes. I said yes."

I threw a glance over at Edward. He didn't look pleased, but he hadn't looked happy before I'd said yes either. I looked back at Tyler for a second, and then Edward was gone when I tried to find him again.

I felt a deep pang of guilt. I'd said yes to Tyler because of Edward.

Tyler rambled, excited he'd finally worn me down, and I nodded along. I made myself appear happy on the outside, but I just felt empty inside. Was I a terrible person? Was I using Tyler? If I was, then maybe it was the only way to stop my dreams of Edward Cullen. It was unhealthy to constantly have Edward on my mind.

When I sat beside Edward in Biology, he didn't even glance at me. I'd tried to say hello the first day—he'd looked at me then, for a long moment. He'd looked worn out and frustrated. He didn't say a word, only met my eyes that once, and refused to look at me again after that. He shunned me despite my frequent attempts that first week. The second week I gave up. I shunned him back. By week three I'd given up all hope that he'd acknowledge me again, but the dreams didn't stop. He starred in my unconscious mind even when I erased all traces of him from my waking thoughts. But he was the first face I pictured when I woke up, glued to my eyelids because of the dreams I now called nightmares.

Life went on. Edward and I ignored each other most of them time. Our only interaction was passing handouts in Biology. He was careful to make sure he didn't accidentally touch me or meet my eyes. Jess didn't catch him staring at me in the cafeteria. I stopped checking his table, daring him to look.

Still, I dreamed of Edward Cullen.

I was good at pretending I was fine. On the surface, I was calm and still, the perfect illusion of happiness. Underneath, I was a raging storm. My frustrations were bubbles in a pot; I kept the lid covering it, hoping it would be enough.

I went out with Tyler twice. I knew after twice that Tyler was light-years ahead of me. He seemed to think I was only a step away from being his girlfriend, and I only wanted to be his friend. Somehow, my plan to get past my obsession of Edward using Tyler was a failure—and a dumb idea. I'd gotten Tyler's hopes up. It was impossible to turn him down. I did though, as kindly as possible.

I hated myself for doing it.

Tyler didn't speak to me for two days. He forgave me by day three. He spoke to me with less energy and was absent of all flirtation. I missed it a little bit, but I knew there would never be anything between Tyler and I.

With Tyler out of the picture, and a school dance a week away, I was open for business. That's what everyone else seemed to think.

I first noticed Mike being more aggressive with his flirting when Tyler hadn't spoken to me for twenty-four hours. He started slow, and then started to grow—until it was a little too clear to me where he was headed. And much too clear for Jess, who looked hurt everyone time Mike spoke to me.

It was Thursday, and the dance was scheduled for the following week's Friday. It was exactly eight days before the dance when he started dropping hints.

"You're going to the dance, right?" he asked. It almost seemed like it wasn't a suggestion.

I shrugged. "Maybe. Jess says it's to die for, for I'm not much of a to-die-for person. I'm still deciding."

He nodded. "Cool."

"I'm going," Jess piped, leaning closer to Mike—who in turned leaned closer to me.

"We should all go," he suggested. He looked around the table, not so subtly insisting that everyone should agree. "It would be fun, right guys?"

"I'm definitely doing," Lauren said snobbishly. "I wouldn't miss it."

"I was planning on going," Angie said with a shrug and a smile. She met my eyes. "You should come, Bella. It'll be your first dance at Forks High, so why not?"

I couldn't argue with her logic. I grinned. "You're right. I'm in."

Everyone confirmed they were in, and they cheered. Mike shot me a few hinting glances that I stubbornly ignored. I once thought I could like Mike, but two things stood in my way. Firstly, Jess obviously had the biggest crush on him. Secondly, I couldn't even think about boys when nightmares about one icy-skinned jerk wouldn't go away. Going stag to the dance was fine with me.

"I know the cutest shop to buy shoes for the dance," Jess squeaked excitedly. "It's out of town, but it's to die for."

"I think I know the place," Angie said with a sheepish grin. "Alexia's, right?"

"That's the one," Jess agreed. "The best stuff. An the store next door always has the best bargains."

Oh. I liked bargains. I had only leftover money from birthdays and Christmases. I really, really liked bargains.

"We should go tomorrow, after school," Jess planned insistently. "That way we'll get there in plenty of time to do some major browsing."

"I'm in," Angie agreed.

"Count me in too," Lauren added. "By the way, Jess, you can drive because, as you know, I have no wheels."

Jess giggled. "I do know. I was already planning to offer up my car for the drive."

"You're coming too, right, Bella?" Angie turned to me, smiling and honestly wanting me to join.

Jess, still fresh off the sting of Mike flirting with me, was hesitant, but he better nature won out. "It wouldn't be as much fun without you."

Lauren rolled her eyes. She didn't like me. She'd never like me. I returned the favour.

"I'm in too," I decided. Shopping with friends (plus one non-friend) was a great distraction.

"Yay," Jess said, somewhat less enthusiastically. "So Friday, after school it is. Be prepared, girls."

The rest of Thursday was uneventful and I nearly forgot about the dance looming ahead. Friday came in full swing to remind me.

The horror began first thing. I arrived late because I'd forgotten to set my alarm the night before. Rushing to class before the second bell, Tyler cornered me.

Literally. I was racing around a turn in the hall when I almost rammed into him.

"Whoa! Slow down, Bella, this isn't a racetrack," he said with a laugh.

"Yeah," I said, breathless, "but I'm running a little behind, so no rules of traffic apply right now."

"I was hoping to catch you before class," he said, touching my arm and guiding me back toward the wall. He stood in front of me, composing his expression and clearing his throat.

The first bell went. I silently cursed, but I didn't want to be rude to Tyler. I could be a minute late. No big deal.

"Since you're going to the dance next Friday," he started, speaking the words quick, but taking nervous pauses. His eyes sped nervously between meeting my eyes and averting, looking anywhere else. "Since no one's asked you yet…I know you don't want to…go out with me, but…"—he shrugged—"since you're not going with anyone, I thought…hey…"

The second bell went. Tyler seemed ready to ramble on for a long time. Maybe that was his plan, to ramble on enough to guilt a certain answer out of me. I couldn't do that.

"No," I said.

He looked up, a hopeful expression melting slowly from his face. His eyes already begging me to reconsider, to tell him he'd misheard my answer.

"Tyler," I murmured, "I'm sorry. I'd rather go stag. Thanks for asking, but…but no."

His jaw tightened. He swallowed, pressed his lips into a pencil thing line, his eyes full of hurt. He must've liked me more than I'd realized.

Why was it I'd never had a guy ask me out before in my life, and now that there were two sweet guys aiming at me, I couldn't stop thinking of some guy I once thought wanted to murder me? What kind of bad luck or curse did I have? And what could I do to get rid of it?

Tyler bobbed his head and stepped aside. His pride was wounded. He'd taken a chance that I would change my mind, and he'd been hurt.

I wanted to apologize, but what would I say? I'm sorry I can't like you? It was better to be silent.

"Okay." He sighed and forced a smile. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah," I muttered. I watched him walk away.

I leaned my head back against the wall. I half sighed, half groaned. I didn't know what to think, what to say to him the next time we met. My life was just fine. But I felt royally screwed.

I raised my head and lifted myself from the wall. I stepped one foot out in the direction of my class when I noticed Edward standing at the end of the hall. His eyes tightened, narrowed and he was frowning. He had one foot forward, paused in mid-step. I took a step forward, but he faced forward and turned down the hall, out of my sight. He was the last person I'd wanted to see, but he'd been there.

Maybe I'd been evil in my past life, because this torture was surely the revenge of karma.

The next stage of the horror show was when I got out of class and Jess started interrogating me about how I felt about Mike. I hated the implied malice if I didn't say I didn't want him in any way except acquaintances. I said what she wanted—and it was the truth—and she was satisfied. I encouraged her to drop more hints that she wanted to go with the dance with Mike. She wanted suggestions, but I had no experience. I wished her luck and prayed Mike was clever enough to ask her and give up on me.

Turns out, he wasn't clever.

I sat down at the lunch table to find Mike and Jess both looking miffed and sitting far, far apart. I mentally groaned. Before I could settle in, Mike turned to me and tapped my arm.

"I need to talk to you," he said. His tone seemed intense, like he was about to tell me my grandmother died. He stood. "In the hall."

I sighed and stood to follow him. He moved quickly with me on his heels. When we were in the hall, I stopped and he started pacing.

"What's wrong?" I asked. I sort of already knew, but I hoped I was wrong.

He stopped pacing and stepped in front of me. "The dance next Friday," he said. "You said you were going."

I tilted my head to the side. "Yes…? What about it?"

"I was talking to Jess," he said sharply, "and she…implied…that you…that if I asked you, you wouldn't go with me."

I exhaled sharply. Of course Jess had implied it that way. She didn't want any crossed wires. Still, it sounded harsh.

"Mike," I said anxiously, "Jess likes you. She wants you to ask her."

"But I'm asking you," he insisted. His eyes were guarded, but the hurt was there. He tilted his head down and stared down for a long moment before looking up again. "So what's your answer?"

I shook my head slowly.

He nodded quickly. He turned to the lockers, his back to me.

"I'm sorry," I said guiltily, in a low voice.

"Why not?" he asked. He spun around. "Why won't you go with me?"

"Jess," I answered.

He met my eyes, looking angry and unconvinced. Jess's feelings weren't a good enough reason for him.

I stared at the cafeteria doors. Someone walked out, walking past Mike and I without even noticing us. I watched the doors slide close; my eyes catching an apple fall to the ground. A hand reached out to grab it, and handed it to a girl. She hesitated before taking it.

Hesitation. I looked back at Mike, knowing I was only hesitating. My one last string, my one last possibility. If I completely turned him down, that was the last of my suitors. After him there would only be…

I had to stop hesitating.

"I like someone else, Mike," I said.

His eyes widened in surprise. He opened his mouth to ask.

"Don't ask," I demanded. "I'm not telling."

He nodded once, mouth closing. "Sure." He nodded twice quickly. "I understand."

"You really should ask Jess to the dance," I repeated.

He nodded once. He seemed more open to the idea now.

I looked back at the cafeteria doors. "I'm actually a little hungry…so I'm going to go back and find my lunch."

"Sure," he agreed. "…Sure, we should…head back in…now that…"

I nodded too. "Okay." I shoved the cafeteria doors opened and stepped quickly back to the table. I found my lunch and stuffed a bit of sandwich in my mouth, an excuse not to talk and to ignore the curious and nervous glances coming from Jess. I had my fingers crossed that Mike would just ask her and get it done with so I wouldn't feel so tortured.

"Edward's staring again," Angie whispered into my ear.

I jumped, nearly choking to death on my mouthful of sandwich. I took a swig of water as Angie suppressed a giggle and apologized.

"Jess told me to tell you," Angie reported. "I guess this means you have a thing for him if Jess's watching him for you."

I shook my head. "I don't know why he'd be staring, but I'm not interested."

"Okay. Sorry."

Angie was about to turn away when I tapped her wrist. She looked at me, surprised.

"Is he still looking?" I whispered.

She smirked. She checked over her shoulder. "No, you're good."

I sighed. "Thank God."

Her lips turned into a frown and her forehead creased worriedly. "Thank God? He's not…?"

"Nothing weird," I assured her. "I'd just prefer if he continued to ignore me. His personality is too weird for me to befriend."

"I don't really understand, but I'm going to nod along," she decided. "If you ever need someone to talk to though…you know where to find me."

I grinned graciously. "Thanks, Angie."

She bobbed her head once. "Anytime."

After lunch I headed into Biology expecting the same radio silence between our warring nations. I'd decided to stop hesitating – to go with my gut instincts and stop thinking that Edward was going to miraculously start speaking to me and share his super secret. I had come to accept that Edward was from a galaxy far, far away and we'd never see eye to eye, so I wasn't going to try anymore. If he wanted me to never look him in the eye again, then I wouldn't. We would be ghosts to each other. I'd go to this dance alone, but by the next one I refused to have him invading my dreams. I wasn't hesitating anymore – I was in the process of moving on, and forgetting the allure of his mysteriousness. That was the plan.

Edward didn't follow my plans.

I sat down and put up the invisible wall between us, but his voice stabbed the wall, sending cracks through the whole thing.

"Bella?"

I didn't want to look at him, but slowly, hesitating, I faced him. My expression was a mix between surprised and murderous. I stared with widened eyes, but didn't say a word.

He took in my expression and his face changed from light and unworried to darkened and regretful. "Never mind," he said in quiet, rough voice.

I inhaled deeply and mentally repaired my glass wall. It was a slip-up on his part, but he didn't want to acknowledge me, not really – and I was done acknowledging him. It would take time to adjust, but there's was more to my life than constantly wondering the answer to the question that was Edward Cullen. There were more rewarding pursuits in life that I could chase after.

The hour went by quickly. I filled a few pages of notes and when the bell went I shuffled my things together and prepared to leave. But then his voice cracked the wall again. This was only a tiny crack – his voice has been quiet – and I had the choice to ignore him. If this were another slip-up he'd regret, I wasn't going to indulge him. I slipped off my chair and started toward the door.

"Bella," he repeated. This time his voice was loud, forceful.

There was no ignoring him. I turned around. His eyes were guarded, but there was curiousness in his voice his couldn't hide.

"What, Edward," I sighed, completely aggravated. I gripped my notebook tightly to my chest and put a hand on my hip.

"I need to know," he said, his expression serious, "why did you turn down Tyler and Mike?"

I gawked. My hand slipped from my hip. Rage built up inside of me. "Okay, so I can understand how you might have overheard me when I turned Tyler down – but how did you know about Mike?" I narrowed my eyes. "Are you watching me?"

He opened his mouth, his expression clearly ready to deny my accusation. I didn't care to hear it. I threw my hand in the air, palm facing him to silence him. I spun on my heels and entered the hall. I didn't want to hear another lie from him.

"I'm not watching you," he said. He'd caught up with me easily enough. "It was a coincidence."

"Sure it was," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "And it was a coincidence you just need to know the reason behind my decisions."

"I wanted to know," he said, his tone now unsure, "but if you won't tell me…I won't bother you anymore."

I rolled my eyes. "I wish you would make up your mind before you talk to me," I said bitingly. "I get really confused – and, News flash, no one likes feeling confused. So if you want to pretend I'm non-existent, do that, but don't do it half-assed. Ignore me or don't ignore me. End of story."

"I've upset you," he observed.

"Ya think, stalker?" I flashed him a smile with narrowed eyes showing nothing but rage.

"Deeply," he continued. "That wasn't my intention."

I laughed angrily. "I don't care what your intention was."

"Its safer for you if we ignore each other's existence," he insisted.

"Fine with me," I murmured. "The sooner the better."

He paused and fell behind. I didn't look back. I was glad to be rid of him. I went through the halls without being spoken to or stopped by anyone else. I made it to my next classroom in record time. Edward's annoying presence had agitated me so much he'd made me speed walk. I was about to walk through the door when I felt an icy hand tap my shoulder. I nearly slammed into the doorframe out of surprise.

"Sorry," he said, suppressing a smile. My reaction had amused him. His smile sickened me.

"Go away, Edward," I insisted.

"I will," he promised. He stayed.

"What do you want?" I demanded angrily.

"Why did you turn them down?" he asked.

My jaw dropped. He was asking again. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

He shrugged slightly, his eyes shifting away from me. "I don't know. But I need to know…"—he eyes lifted to meet mine, bearing into mine like golden fire melting ice—"was it because of me?"

The heat of his eyes pressed into my chest. I couldn't breath. I couldn't remember how to lie.

The bell rang. That meant we'd been staring into each other's eyes for a while. I tried to get a grip, but I couldn't think up an answer. I turned my head away.

"Goodbye, Edward," I said forcefully. I went into the classroom and didn't glance over my shoulder or look back into the hall to see if he'd lingered. An eerie feeling told me he had lingered, so I didn't dare to chance a look out the door until class was over.

After school I hurried to my truck. I didn't want to deal with any more school-associated problems. I had my mind puzzling over whether is was too late to drop out of Biology, take it in the second semester where I might sit next to someone san and non-agitating. I didn't even reach the parking lot before being stopped by two guys who wanted to ask me out. I barely knew the two, so I said no. I knew their names, I knew they were in my classes, but I'd already decided on going stag.

I was halfway to the doors when Jess caught me by the arm and announced that Mike had asked her to the dance. I was relieved that at least Jess wasn't upset with me anymore – and that Mike wasn't as clingy as Tyler.

Jess thanked me for getting Mike to ask her out. I assured her it was all her doing and I'd only hinted – which was somewhat of a lie, but I didn't want to puncture her self-esteem. She'd already felt bad enough playing second fiddle to me when it came to Mike's choice of dance partner. I promised her we'd celebrate later and excused myself with the viable excuse that I had a lot of assignments to catch up on. (And I did have quite a bit of homework, but mostly I just needed to be left alone for a little while.)

I'd finally made it outside the school doors when Eric found me. I was foolish enough to think I'd only had two guy friends actively seeking me. I hadn't counted Eric.

"Bella."

"Hi, Eric," I said, my voice full of exhaustion. "I'm in a bit of a hurry, so if you'll excu—"

"Sure, but I want to ask you one thing," he interrupted. He grasped my arm to stop me from swerving around him.

My Spidey sense immediately went on high alert. My entire body froze. It was too clear what his question was, and I was not up for the guilt and the drama of turning another friend down.

"If no one's asked you yet…"

I laughed. I bit my lip to silence my laugh. Eric looked nervous enough and I didn't want to be mean by laughing at what had obviously taken a lot of his courage to do. It wasn't his fault he was the millionth person to ask me.

"I was wondering," he asked, taking a deep breath, "if you'd go with me to the dance next Friday?"

I smiled stiffly, apologetically. "I'm sorry, Eric," I said in the most sincere tone I had. I tried to be gentle. "I'd really rather go dateless."

He looked stunned. He tried to nod like he understood, but it was robotic. "Sure. I understand. I'll…see you around. Tomorrow."

"Yeah." I pressed my lips together tightly and tried to keep myself smiling, rather than groaning moaning and crying like I wanted to. I wanted to punch in a few walls too. It was the curse. Where were all these guys before I met Edward Cullen, Destroyer of Worlds (specifically my world)?

"Save me a dance?" he requested shyly.

I smiled, a real smile this time. I was relieved Eric seemed more capable of bouncing back than Tyler or Mike. "Sure," I promised. "Consider it saved."

He smiled, relieved even more than I was.

"See you later," I muttered and bolted for my truck. I prayed silently and crossed my fingers that that was the last of the batch of crazies.

I hopped into my truck. It felt like a blessing to start the engine. The conspiracy against me leaving school grounds was finally about to end. I did my usual both-ways check before pulling out, but my eyes caught Edward by his car.

His eyes were on me, his expression a mix of confusion and exhaustion and frustration. I wanted to be angry with him. If anyone had the right to wear that expression, it was I. Instead I felt a chill up my spine and the feeling of fearful anticipation – a foreboding that felt like a premonition.

Why was he still looking at me? Why had he been trying to talk to me? Why did it matter to him the reason I said no to everyone who'd asked me to the dance? Why wouldn't he leave me alone? I was so tired of constantly worrying over him. I wanted him to go away.

He wouldn't though. He was still looking at me. I had to be the one to look away.

I pulled out of the parking lot and went home, feeling like I was being crushed the whole way. Even when I stepped inside with Dad sounding cheery, asking how my day was, I couldn't fake a smile or a falsely happy tale of the day's events. I simply said I was tired and had a lot of homework. He was disappointed I wasn't ready to have share-time with him, but he nodded and let me slink off to my room. I tried to do homework for a bit, but then the building headache lost the battle with my work ethic. I put on my headphones, turned up the club music and stuffed my face into the pillow, making myself void of any and all thinking for a long moment.

I came down for dinner feeling much better. The gift of not thinking was something only music with heavy bass and pop vocals could do – and it was a gift I'd been in need of. Now I could face Dad with the persona of a bright teenage daughter he deserved.

"You look like you're feeling better," he commented, clearly hinting that he wanted me to talk about it.

I nodded. "I guess it was just a long week," I lied. "Lots of homework, and I was avoiding doing most of it, but with the dance coming up deadlines can't be avoided any longer."

"The dance?" Dad's eyebrows popped up. His Spider senses were on high alert. "Are you going?"

I nodded.

"With your friends?"

I nodded again, this time more slowly. I had a feeling he was headed in the right direction. Darn Spidey senses.

"With a date?" he asked in a gruff voice. He paused. "Did someone ask you, Bell?"

I didn't answer. I stared into my half-empty plate, wondering which answer was better. Did he want to hear that no one had asked me to he could console me and move on? Or did he want to hear that a million guys had asked me but I was enough of a loser to turn down every single one of them?

"Isabella," he said, his voice full of I'm-your-father-so-you-better-not-lie-to-me. His eyes looked at me with hope though, he desperately wanted me to confide in him.

"I was asked," I said. "By a lot of guys actually. I think some of them were out of pity…but not all. But…"—I sighed and shrugged—"I said no."

"You're not interested in any of the boys at Forks High?" he asked, both surprised and curious. "Why would you turn them down?"

I sighed again. Why was he the second person to ask that like the answer mattered dearly? Edward's reason…was hidden and strange to me. But Dad seemed to suspect I was guarding a hurting heart.

"I guess I'm not the girl who says yes for the sake of saying yes," I told him decisively. "If someone I really liked asked me, then…yes. But there is no someone like that." I nodded my head sharply. I met Dad's eyes with confidence—speaking both for his sake and mine. "I'm perfectly happy going with my friends."

"I'm glad, Bell," Dad said with a smile. "If that's really how you feel…"

"It is," I insisted. It was how it had to be.

Dad pressed his lips together and nodded a few times. "Alright. Then good. Have fun with your friends."

"Oh, speaking of which, I'll be going shopping this weekend with some of said friends," I announced. "Tomorrow, after school."

"That's fine with me," Dad assured me. "You'll get no complaint from me for wanting to spend time with your friends. Just don't stay out past eleven and you'll have a happy father."

I crossed my fingers over my heart. "I promise. Back by eleven."

Dad chuckled, happy to see that I wasn't wallowing in frustration anymore. I was happy that I was working my way toward the lack of uneasiness in my life. I just had to remind myself that no one's life was perfect. No pain no gain. And after dealing with the pain of Edward, I suspected the gain would be enormous.

The next morning, I didn't scan the parking lot for the Cullen or Hale vehicle. I parked at the opposite end of the lot, hoping to avoid even catching him in my peripheral. But as I was about to get out of my truck, the pretend gentleman opened my door for me and offered his hand to help me out. He really was stalking me.

"Go away," I said. I kept far away from his outstretched hand and slammed the door by keeping as far from him as I could. "I don't want to talk to you."

"You didn't answer my question yesterday," he reminded me.

I froze in place. I wanted to ignore him so badly, but he made it impossible. He sparked the fighting spirit in me. I wanted to fight him with everything I had. I looked over my shoulder at him. He was looking smug and was leaning against _my_ truck.

"Get off my truck," I demanded.

He'd stepped away before I'd finished my request. "You've turned down everyone who's asked you," he said, confident with eyes burning once again. "You say you want me to go away, but you seem to have trouble ignoring me."

"That's because you won't let me!" I shouted. I stepped closer, mostly so I wasn't standing in the middle of where cars wanted to be driving. I pressed myself against my truck and glared at him with everything I had. "If you would stop harassing me, I could successfully ignore you."

"Somehow, I don't believe this is all my fault," he said. He cocked a brow and his smile faded.

I rolled my eyes. "So you're the victim?" I laughed bitterly. "What did I ever do to you?"

His jaw tightened. It was as if he had a legitimate answer to my question, but was unwilling to share. I didn't want to hear the answer. I was trying to get away from him, not dive in deeper. I _was _trying, but failing.

"I turned them down because I didn't want to go to the dance as their date," I answered in a rush. "That's your answer. Satisfied?"

He inhaled deeply and sighed. He averted his eyes. "No."

"If the answer wasn't going to make you happy, you shouldn't have asked," I advised. "Remember that."

He was silent. I took that as a sign he wanted to start ignoring me again. I motioned to leave, but hesitated. The glass wall I'd built was so broken, so ready to shatter. I wasn't sure how to make it strong again. I wasn't sure there was a way.

"What would you say if I asked you?"

I balked. I was stunned. I was speechless. I was frozen. My blood was boiling. I didn't know what to think, how to react. What would I do if he asked me?

"Say no," I answered venomously. "Because if I said yes, you might decide to start ignoring me and rescind your invitation."

"I might," he admitted.

I shook my head. I glanced at the school doors. I shouldn't felt the pull to leave, but I felt disappointed. All my energy wasted, torn between hating him and wanting him to stop ignoring me…and there was so much evidence saying he didn't care. He was only playing around with me, toying with my perceptions when it suited him. I was just a puzzle, not a human being to him.

"It isn't safe for you to be around me," he warned.

"I know," I snapped. I twisted my head toward him. I renewed my glare, even though his eyes made me feel guilty.

He looked like he really was trying to warn me, like he was sorry he existed. "I could hurt you," he said.

My mouth was dry, but I swallowed out of nervousness, pressing harder against my truck. "I know," I whispered.

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't want to."

I didn't speak. I didn't know the answer to that. It felt like a hollow statement, a half-truth. Part of him was sorry, regretful – part of him truly didn't want to hurt me. But I saw an animal, a hungry animal in those eyes. It was that part of him that made me want to run away screaming; that made my blood turn cold; that made me want to rebuild the glass wall between us; that made me wish he would ignore me and stop tormenting me. I was too afraid to pursue him now, but too familiar with him to ignore him on my own. I wasn't strong enough to resist anymore. I needed him to make a decision – more importantly; I needed him to decide to ignore me.

"Leave me alone then," I suggested.

His eyes saddened, and, for a moment so quick I thought I'd imagined it, I saw a flash of fear in his eyes. "I don't think I can," he spoke softly.

My Spider senses were back, tingling to the point that it stung. Danger, my instincts told me. You should run, the little voice in my head screamed at me.

"You have to," I said, but my voice wasn't strong like I'd wanted. It was shaking.

He closed the space between us, his eyes drifting over my skin, his eyes full of hunger. It wasn't desire; it was hunger, a harsh and violent hunger. It made my legs weak, my knees almost gave out. I clung to my truck, dropping my books and my car keys. The jingle as the metal hit the pavement strengthened my knees. It renewed the voice in my head that was telling me to escape before it was too late.

_Don't let him touch me_!

Instinctively I knew if he put a single hand on me I'd never make it out alive.

"Get away from me," I ordered. I slid against the truck, moving toward the school doors.

Edward's hand raised to my neck, edging closer to my skin, his eyes somehow looking underneath my skin. His mouth opened, and I thought I saw fangs. Maybe it was just my mind in panic, but it was enough to put a jolt in my feet. I jumped away from him, ready to run for the doors.

I slammed into a body. The person was small, but hard, like I'd slammed into a wall of steel. A hand gripped my arm, gentle enough that it was painless, but strong enough that I couldn't pull away.

"Whoa, careful there, Bella," the person said. Her voice was cheery, bubbly, and sweet – unaware I had an almost attacker on my heels.

I jumped when I realized she was none other than Alice Cullen. It was two against one. I was dead.

"You okay?" she asked. Her eyes were wide and innocent. "You look shaken."

I sensed no malice, no hunger from her. It surprised me. I hurriedly looked back to see Edward was gone.

"Oh, you dropped your books and bag," Alice said, sounding unsurprised. She bent to pick them up, releasing my arm. She held out her arm, my stuff in them. "And your keys. No wonder you look shaken. No need to be embarrassed, we all trip over our own two feet sometimes." Her smile widened, brightened like it was its own source of light.

I took my things back, my expression locked in stunned mode. "Thank you."

Alice patted my shoulders with her hands, still beaming. "No problem. That's what friends are for."

I blinked. "Friends?" I didn't understand. This was the first time we'd spoken.

"See you later, Bella!" she called, sprinting across the parking lot, still smiling like a second sun.

I stood there for a long time. I was a robot who'd run out of batteries.

The bell rang and I moved automatically toward my classroom. I was a minute late, but I wasn't in the state of mind to care. I was barely in the state of mind to notice.

What had just happened? Had Edward really been about to attack me? Was I crazy? And had Alice just saved me? I had no clue what to think. I just knew that something beyond me was happening in that family. The Cullens were weird.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: So this is where things start to deviate from the storyline of the book a wee bit. Hopefully for the best, eh? ^.~<p>

Please review! I MEAN IT! I appreciate it.


	6. Chapter 5: Blood Type

_5. BLOOD TYPE_

I MADE MY WAY TO ENGLISH IN A DAZE. It was one of those moments when time passes, moving faster and faster, but my mind was moving slower. Slower still as I entered the classroom, hearing voices in the background. The world's heart kept on beating, but mine was still waiting in the parking lot for an explanation—which I suspected would never come.

So there I was, frozen in time, and I wasn't sure how to unfreeze. Hallucination, imagination, or whatever—the point was, I'd felt my life almost slip away from me just moment ago, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I wasn't sure if I should ignore it—considering it seemed so out of this world that I'd be murdered in broad daylight in a busy parking lot—but I knew if I told anyone, they wouldn't believe it. Plus, I was afraid of what might happen to me if Edward found out I told everyone he'd possibly been about to kill me. I knew I wasn't safe around Edward, but what could I do with that information, knowing we had Biology together every day?

That day, not even the piercing ringing of the bells could wake me from my stupor. My feet moved forward and my voice worked automatically answering those who spoke to me. I don't think I took any notes that day. And I only picked up on tiny pieces of the conversations around me. Mike wanted a beach trip. Jessica was excited to go dress shopping. Angie had an ant infestation at her house—and strangely that was the bit of conversation I tuned into most. Creepy crawlies seemed the only thing more frightening than the thoughts mixing in my own mind—thoughts over what drastic or non-drastic actions of protection I should be taking.

At lunch, I couldn't eat. Nothing in me was hungry. I was still recovering from my fight-or-flight encounter with Edward that morning. That kind of adrenaline rush blocked the need to eat. I only hoped my sanity and hunger would return soon enough.

"Bella, you still look down," Angie said, her tone worried and gentle. A friendly tone of a friend—but I still didn't wake from my nightmare.

"Yeah, sorry," I mumbled. I sighed and shook my head. "It's just…an off day."

Angie reached and touched my arm, her eyebrows knitting together with concern. "Bella," she said quietly, trying not to draw attention to us. "If there's something you need to talk about…"

Ah, this was the moment of truth. I'd made friends in Forks. I felt in every fiber of my being that they were friends of the truest brand. They cared about me. Hey, maybe they wouldn't die for me or save me from the heart of a burning building, but they'd help me put out fires and fight off woes if I asked. They would. All of them—if I only asked—but…

"…You know you can talk to me," Angie finished. Her eyes were trusting, her expression calm and ready to take on whatever load I gave her.

Yes. She was quite ready to be a friend to me. It left me wondering why I wasn't. Why was I so hollow? Was I incapable of making human connections? Was I doomed to be friendless forever?

The teenage angst and drama was too much for me. I'd rather be in a soap opera—where everyone has a secret twin brother who died twice and is marrying your true love because you poisoned your true love's accountant's half-sister who turned out to be your true love's childhood friend—than in a teen drama. At least in a soap opera you expect the cheesy terribleness. I'd rather be friendless in a soap opera, because then it wouldn't matter if Edward killed me. I'd come back in the next episode.

"I'm fine, Angie," I lied, smiling convincingly. Just a soft smile and an appreciative glance was all it took. "Honestly, I just have some home drama. My mom's getting on my nerves. It's no big deal. I'll solve the problem soon."

Angie, being the truest and noblest—and scarily intuitive—of my friends, looked uncertain. "If you sure…"

I patted her hand and tensed my smile. "I'm sure. Really."

She frowned. "Okay."

"And, Angie," I said shyly, "I'd do the same for you…just so you know. I've been told I'm a good listener."

Angie smiled, shook her head at me, and then laughed. "Alright," she said, "fair deal. I'll get back to you if I have any drama that needs to be shared."

"You do that," I instructed jokingly. "Oh, and p.s. I might want your English notes, since I hear this is your third time reading the material."

Angie shrugged. "I like Chaucer," she said, her cheeks reddening. "He's funny."

"I agree," I said, "but it's still my first time and Old English is a bitch."

"Too bad we don't know anyone who was around then who can translate," Jessica said, budging into the conversation.

"Yeah, I don't think I'll ever meet someone over a century old," I said confidently.

"Oh, by the way, Bella," Jessica whispered, suddenly leaning in so close she nearly took my eye out with her nose (but I dodged in time). "You'll never believe this. Edward Cullen is staring—at you—yet again."

My blood turned to ice. Hesitantly, and full of fright, I turned my head to the Cullen table. I hoped I could compose myself enough to glare at him when I saw him. The scary thing was, he wasn't there.

"And he's sitting alone today," Jessica reported. "Right there,"—she pointed her thumb over her shoulder—"like he's expecting someone. Wait a second, is he pointing at you?"

Sure enough, he was. He motioned with a wave of his hand for me to join him. His expression was cold. No jokes there. He didn't want me to join him for a comedy festival. The motion of his hand was like out of a horror movie, where the villain hypnotizes the poor innocent victim to obey his every whim. My body was split into two desires—the desire to sit with him, listen to him, and then the desire to run.

"Well, well," Jessica squealed excitedly. "It seems the staring makes sense now. The untouchable Edward must have a crush on Miss Swan."

"I really don't care if he does." Did they notice my voice hitch at the end? I knew if I spoke again my voice might shake—my whole body might shake.

Jessica's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Come on, Bella!" Her eyes were horrified that I wasn't drooling at the sight of him beckoning me. "Of all the guys you should say yes to—he's numero uno!"

I stood, locking my eyes on Edward. "Of all the guys he's numero zero."

Edward's eyes narrowed at me. He knew I wasn't going to walk deliberately into his trap. It pissed him off.

"I've got to go," I said. I grabbed my still wrapped lunch and turned from the table. I shot Edward a glare and a deep scowl before I left. I refused to play his game. He could pretend he knew nothing, he could pretend he was normal, and he could ignore me or not ignore me. I was getting the hell far, far away from him, never looking back, and staying there.

I heard Angie call after me, but I waved at them over my shoulder and kept on walking. I dumped my lunch in the trash and pushed out the cafeteria doors. I was so out of there. I didn't want to see his face. In fact, I was considering skipping Biology. Forever.

I went for my locker. I hadn't had a plan when I dashed out of the cafeteria so I needed somewhere to think. I opened my locker and stared into the mirror. I silently debated between just going home or waiting in the library until Biology was over.

I decided Charlie would find out if I skipped the whole afternoon. Plus, my friends would find out and then Angie might worry—and I didn't think another lie would smooth things over. Skipping one class would go unnoticed. It was the easiest course.

I dug into my locker for something to do. Homework? I really didn't feel up to it. Ah, but a dog-eared paperback had hidden itself in the back of my locker. It was my copy of _Alice in Wonderland_. It was one of my many go-to reads when I was feeling blue or stressed. And the Jabberwocky was a million times more frightening than whatever the hell Edward was. It was a worth a try to distract myself.

I was reaching for my fourth period notebook, Alice in hand, when my eyes caught a shadow in the mirror. My eyes darted to the image. Edward.

I sucked in a gallon of air instead of a scream, dropping books and pen or two, slamming my back against the lockers.

"You wouldn't come to me," Edward explained, his voice calm but his eyes full of anger and hurt. "So I came to you."

I curled my fingers into fists. "I wish you wouldn't have."

Edward ignored my comment. He bent to his knees, picking up my things, acting polite. He handed them to me. He was going to be civil. For now, at least, I wasn't in danger—yet.

Edward stepped forward to hand my things to me, but I couldn't take them. I didn't want to be any closer to him, I didn't want to accidently touch his hands and feel the numbness of his skin, and I also knew I couldn't keep my hands from shaking if I reached out. Edward seemed to understand that I wouldn't budge. He stepped forward again, and I backed away, edging away from my locker. He began placing my things back in my locker. He saved _Alice in Wonderland_ for last. He stared at the cover a moment. It was a pale-coloured sketch of Alice in the Duchess' home with the cook throwing dishes. It was my least favourite scene, mostly because the pig-baby oddity had always confused me.

"A favourite of yours?" he asked.

"None of your business," I snapped. I was brave enough to snatch it away from him. I tossed it back in my locker and pushed the door shut.

He met my eyes—empty of that earlier anger, replaced only with hurt and sadness. It made me feel so guilty I couldn't help myself.

"It's one of," I answered. "But it isn't my favourite. It was a gift."

The sadness in his eyes alleviated somewhat. "From who? Someone precious to you?"

"My father," I said hastily, "He got it for me as a sort of, 'sorry I failed you and couldn't keep your mother happy' present." I felt my throat tighten. "There was a time when things were really rough and I didn't get to see him for a long time. So he sent me that."

His eyes saddened again, pitying me—but also, sincerely, feeling the pain and sorrow with me. "I'm sorry."

The look in his eyes—although too realistic to be faked—made me feel uncomfortable. It made my angry. How dare he scare the living crap out of me and then empathize with me? It was strange and offense to me.

"Yeah, well, none of your business," I said grouchily, turning on my heels, heading down the hall to get away from him. I checked over my shoulder and he was gone. I was feeling triumphant, but then he appeared in front of me like magic. Black magic that froze me in my tracks, almost tripping over my own two feet, but I caught myself on the lockers.

"Get away from me," I demanded. "I don't know what you are, but you need to leave me alone."

"I'm finding I can't," he said quietly.

"Well, find a way that you can," I ordered angrily. "Remember my dad is the chief of police. He has a gun and everything. He's not going to let you get away with stalking and—"

"I thought you intended to keep my secret," Edward said, smiling coyly.

I gawked. Was he seriously pulling that out now? I'd allowed him some time when he'd saved my life, but just because he'd saved me once didn't mean he had the option of hurting me now.

"I only protect the secret identity of good-doers," I told him, my jaw tightening. "You're no friendly neighbourhood hero-man anymore—not like this."

"I never said I was a hero," he pointed out.

"I see that now," I growled. "Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious. Now leave me alone before I start screaming for a real hero."

Before I could blink, he was all up in my grill.

I panicked—unable to breath—as his face was inches from mine, his hand grasping my wrist too tightly. He had his fingers gently curved around my neck. This was it. I'd pushed too many buttons—I'd found the big red do-not-push-unless-you-want-to-die button.

"I wouldn't let you scream," he murmured, his eyes dark and merciless.

I inhaled, shakily, slowly. "What do you want?" I asked, lower lip trembling.

His fingers slowly drew away from my neck and his grip loosened around my wrist. He seemed to just realize he'd hurt me, like he'd been sleepwalking. He seemed horrified by his own actions.

"I want to know you," he said." His eyes tightened, a firm frown on his lips. His eyes showed sincerity.

I shook my head once. "Why…?"

His expression tightened more, became pained and hurt. "I think it will help."

"Help who?" I knew that was the million-dollar question. I felt like I was dancing on the edge between death and salvation.

He sighed. "Both of us, I hope."

I rolled my eyes, trying to force myself to be confident when my lip was still trembling. "Oh, he hopes, he says. Like how they felt Skynet would help." I yanked my wrist free. "No thanks, Terminator. I'll save myself with my foolproof plan. Stay away from you permanently."

"If I get to know you," he proposed, "I wouldn't want to hurt you."

"Probably," I supplied.

His patience had run out again. He looked as ready to run away as I was. His eyes were still tight but there was less hurt and sorrow—more annoyance to my great delight.

"If I know you, you become less of a…"—he turned his head away, his lips pressed together for a moment—"it reminds me that I have no reason to hate you." His eyes met mine again, burning—but not with hatred, with pleading instead. "I won't want to hurt you, and that will save you—will help both our souls."

I considered his words for a moment. The commitment to his proposal, the sincerity was too much to doubt. It rendered me speechless, how badly he wanted to _not want_ to hurt me. Every time I spoke with him, he was a different person. There seemed to be a battle inside him, two very different personalities—a monster and a man, both with unyielding desires and needs. I'd caused conflict between the monster and the man—somehow, I'd started a war within him. It made me feel I owed it to him to try it his way.

I knew I was probably fooling myself again. Maybe it was his damn perfect smoldering eyes and angel face—maybe I was too naïve for my own good. Or maybe, much like _the Hulk_, I knew I wouldn't like him when he was angry, so it was best to obey him while he still wanted me alive.

"So, what now?" I shrugged. "Are you going to stop threatening me?"

He was momentarily mute. I took it as a maybe.

"Are we going to pretend to be friends?" I asked uncertainly. The idea of being friends with him seemed impossible to me.

"Friends…" He lowered his gaze to the floor. He seemed to think the idea sounded absurd too.

"Or not," I grumbled.

"Friends it is," he decided. "Let's try being friendly first, friends later."

I crossed my arm and leaned my back against the lockers. "I don't like this."

He half laughed, half snorted. "Join the club," he said.

"I did." I raised a brow and lifted my chin a couple inches, tilting my head to the side. "I have the membership card and I've saved up enough points to say 'the grass isn't greener' and 'it's half empty' whenever the hell I wish."

He smirked. He seemed stunned speechless by my comment. He shook his head and laughed at me.

The bell rang. I said a silent prayer of thanks to whoever rang that bell. I owed that person for releasing me from Edward's presence.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," I said in a tone that told him I was not asking for permission. I made sure he knew my voice was lined with poison if he tried to stop me. "Class will start soon."

"I'm not going."

Ah, the Hallelujah Chorus. It came as music to my ears knowing Edward wouldn't be in class. I turned, barely hiding my triumphant grin. Aw, who the heck was I kidding. I didn't hide the grin well at all.

"You're skipping?" I asked. "Why?"

His eyes sparkled deviously. "It's best for everyone."

"I couldn't agree more," I said enthusiastically. Everyone was better off with him out of the picture.

"Hopefully I won't be seeing you soon, _friend_," I said gleefully, with just a hint of a glare at him as I quickly opened my locker and retrieved the necessary supplies. "Goodbye."

I practically skipped off to the Biology classroom. I saw in my chair, happily glancing at the empty chair beside me. I suddenly had "Jump in the Line" from the ending of Beetlejuice stuck in my head. I was prepared for my victory dance.

When class started and the teacher announced that day's lesson I was still in my gleeful mood. We were talking about blood types, and we were going to identify our own blood types. Easy enough, but I was squeamish. It wasn't the blood. I'd been the kid in school with their hand raised to ask permission to go to the bathroom as blood poured over my palm. My frequent nosebleeds in my youth had taught me the value of drinking enough water. I hadn't had a gushing nosebleed in a couple years though.

So it wasn't the blood, it was the prick of pain. I'd never been good with pain. I'd never broken a bone—although the sprain from my recent parking lot accident had come close (which was feeling loads better, and the back of my head felt good as new, mostly, except when I poked at it). I was hoping to keep it that way—whole and unbroken for as long as possible, maybe forever.

There were a few times—specifically right before, during, and after the needle pricking my finger—that I felt a little faint, but I forced myself to bear it. After a class like that, I was exhausted. Or maybe it was all the events of the day—the horrifying and the odd—adding together to make me want to take a long, long nap. I had to pinch myself to stay awake. I also had to remind myself that I was going out of town shopping with my eager gal pals—I hoped they wouldn't noticed how lifeless I felt.

Mike caught me after class, his eyes bright and cheerful. I wanted to be an energy-sucking vampire, to take some of his enthusiasm and hope to re-energize myself. But no such luck. Although his fast talk and optimistic tone did serve to keep me wide awake.

"Bella," he said, "you skipped out at lunch. Did something happen?"

"I just wasn't feeling well," I half-lied, as I certainly wasn't feeling welcome with Edward glaring at me. "Needed a breath of fresh air. Honestly, I didn't sleep well last night. I watched _Alien Vs. Predator_ for the first time out of curiosity." I sighed dramatically. "I won't be seeing another from that movie franchise for years to come."

Mike laughed. "You're not the monsters and aliens type," he summarized. "That doesn't surprise me."

I grinned and nodded sheepishly. Honestly, _Alien Vs. Predator_ wasn't the kind of movie genre I usually liked, but I'd seen it three times, and I knew the title. It made for a good alibi in case he'd chosen to ask which scene scared me most. I liked to make sure I could back up my lies with facts.

"You missed out on beach plans," he announced. "The whole group is going. Tomorrow at noon, since the weather report's been saying that tomorrow is going to be the only hot day for a long, long time. We're meeting at my dad's shop at ten. You know where that is, right?"

"A beach trip," I muttered. I was such a major introvert. I had no reason to want to go.

I contemplated losing all my friends for a moment. If I rejected social gatherings who knew how much longer my friends would want to act friendly toward me. As much as I'd come to accept that my friends were true—I also knew we were all teenagers; and thus, we were fickle. Fickle, fickle, fickle.

I really hated the beach. It involved things like snails, and sunburns, and fish—swimming and wriggling in the water. The idea of a fish swimming up to me was a million times more frightening to me than Edward slashing my throat. (I sensed I was being overdramatic, but fish really freaked me out, although they were delicious.)

"That sounds like fun," I said, grinning and pulling out everyone ounce of my lying skills to sounds happy and excited. I knew that acting interested in outings was the best way to deepen relationships. If I wanted them to still be my friends next year, I needed all the bonding and outings I could get. "Taking advantage of good weather is always a good idea. And where…exactly…is La Pull beach?"

"Alright! One more addition to the team," Heath cheered. His smiling was practically glowing. "La Push is on the edge of the reservation."

"Huh." I wasn't sure if I'd been to the reservation before. I definitely didn't know how to get there. "Who's driving? To each their own transport, or…?"

"I'm taking a van and Eric's taking his car," Mike explained, "so you can hitch a ride with me."

"Great," I said, my face hurting from all the fake grinning. "Thanks, Mike."

"No problem," he assured me, putting his hand on my shoulder. "It's great having you around."

And so, I had weekend plans for a beach trip. La Push. What a weird name for a beach.

…The beach plans aside, I had after school plans; a shopping trip I was suddenly very against. I wore my fake smile though, and hoped the company I kept would make it become real.

Jessica drove in a way that I could only describe as frightening. She drove a reasonable speed, but she had music up at full volume, and seemed to only look at the road when she suspected she'd sped through a red light. I gripped tightly to my seatbelt and armrest. Normally I enjoyed going for a drive, but with Jessica, it was much like a less secure rollercoaster. No one else seemed to notice. Maybe they'd gotten used to it.

From the afternoon into late into the evening, there was endless gossip and girl-talk. Jessica even dropped a couple non-subtle hints that it seemed every guy in school had a thing for me…and she wasn't afraid to imply the same of Mike. Angie set her straight, reminding Jessica of the ever-lingering Edward. Jessica took the bait and insisted that if I was miraculously lucky enough to have drawn Edward's attention, I should go for it. For her, it meant I would never consider dating Mike—who she at one point during that evening admitted to being a long-time crush. If only she knew how much better off she was with Mike and how I wished I could like a guy like him. I was caught between a rock and a hard place. All I could say to them was I preferred just about anyone over Edward. I lied saying he annoyed me and was grateful when Angie distracted Jessica from pursuing the subject further.

At the end of the shop-until-you-drop trip, everyone had what she came for. Lauren had a yellow dress with white flower print. She loved it. I disliked her enough that I smiled and nodded when she chose it. Jessica got a short, hot pink sleeveless dress which made her seem more bubbly and girlish than she'd ever seemed before—which was pretty intense. Angie went for plain black, no matter how hard we convinced her. I was forced into buying a silvery dress with a skirt that shimmered under direct light. It was pretty—but I usually shied away from buying pretty dresses. The peer pressure convinced me to open my wallet and buy the damn pretty thing. I felt the guilt but also the pleasure of owning it.

Jessica took the wheel again to take us home—and I was reawakened by the terror of seeing my life flash before my eyes; although, the second trip was easier than the first. I was beginning to believe it was too easy to adjust to Jessica's bubbly nature—and her hectic driving.

Jessica and Lauren gushed about their dates for the dance. Angie and I nodded in silent congratulation. Neither of us had snagged a trustworthy date. I knew my reasons. I was curious as to what Angie's were.

Before I could get the chance to ask, Jessica had parked outside my house. I put it on my mental list to ask Angie later why she was as dateless as me. I thanked the girls for the night of fun—and I was gracious as their mindless, carefree gossip had been a great distraction—and waved at them as they drove off.

As I approached the front door, I couldn't help the feeling of eyes on my back. I moved more quickly toward the door, key in hand in case dad had locked it on me (he was known for locking people out accidentally). I reached for the knob and checked over my shoulder.

His face.

My feet stumbled and I almost dropped the key. I clenched my fingers tightly around the key and yanked at the knob to pull the door open. I jumped inside and pulled the door tight behind me. I quickly locked it and pressed my palms against the doors, breathing heavily and waiting. My mind was racing.

Edward's face. I'd definitely seen Edward standing at the end of my driveway. Had he followed me—or had he been stationed outside my house, waiting for me to come home? I wasn't sure there was a rational way to think it through.

I took a few deep, slowly inhaled and exhaled to calm myself. I unlocked the door and slowly, crept the door open half an inch per second. I saw my truck, Dad's police cruiser, and the black starry night. The chirp of insects and the hushed howl of the breeze were the only sounds. I pulled the door fully open and stepped outside, taking a long look as far as my eyes could see, left to right.

I breathed with relief. If he had been there—and maybe there was a chance I'd imagined it—he wasn't there now. He'd said he didn't want to hurt me. I had to try to believe that. I couldn't live paranoid forever. I could be guarded and cautious, but to be constantly checking over my shoulder was ridiculous. I had to keep calm and carry on.

I shut the door just as Dad came down the stairs.

"I thought I heard you come in," he said, grinning proudly. "Did you have a good time?"

I pressed my lips together and nodded. Except for the last bit, the answer would've been an easy yes.

"It was great," I said, "but now I'm tired and I have to get up tomorrow to go to the beach with more friends—so I better rest up."

"The beach?" Dad's brow creased.

"La Push beach," I explained. "Do you know it?"

He nodded, his brow relaxing. "On the reservation."

"That's the one," I said. I started climbing the stairs, arm looped through my shopping bag. "It sounded interesting, so I joined."

"You hate the beach," he reminded me.

I sighed. "But my friends don't," I said. "So I thought I'd give it a try."

Dad beamed at me. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad." I passed him on the stairs, headed for my room. "Goodnight."

He stood in my doorway, still beaming. "Goodnight, Bell."

I smiled tightly and put my new dress away. Dad shut my bedroom door for me and left me alone with my thoughts. I prepared for bed and began undressing, but I felt eyes on me again. I re-checked that the window was shut and the blinds were closed. The blinds had the bad habit of getting stuck open when I least wanted them to.

After dressing in my pajamas I tucked myself into bed. I'd been through enough that there was no resistance left in me and I easily fell asleep. As my consciousness began to slip away, I felt something gentle as a breeze brush my cheek. I wondered if through all my re-checking of the blinds, I'd somehow forgotten to close the window…?

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: Um...I don't have any...so enjoy.<p>

Oh, I was planning to do more with the shopping trip...but I was writing at 3:30 AM and I didn't feel like writing anymore. Plus, fanfiction is just for kicks, to practice writing. Shopping trips aren't all that important in the grand scheme of things.

Comment/Review please! I appreciate it!


	7. Chapter 6: Scary Stories

_6. SCARY STORIES_

AS I SAT IN MY ROOM, TRYING TO CONCENTRATE ON THE THIRD ACT OF _MACBETH_, I suddenly smelled the all-too tempting aroma of bacon. Dad was at it again.

I came down the stares and glared at him teasingly. "You're way to excited for me to me going to the beach," I told him.

He scooped a hearty helping of bacon onto his own plate and then a smaller helping for me, just enough to feed a third world country. He'd also made a ham, cheese, red pepper, and broccoli omelet (which was delicious and really encouraged me to seize the day in the way breakfast should).

"When you were little," he said, launching into reminiscing-dad mode. "It was a battle to get you to the beach. You loved wearing your beach hat and you loved building castles and mermaid tails in the sand—but as soon as I put that bathing suit on you and tried to make you swim, you'd struggle."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. I was about to hear five different stories of the trouble I'd caused him. The same thing happened with mom and her tales of me. Stories of swimming were the worst. Fish and I were natural enemies; and therefore I naturally had a resistance to learning the ability to swim. I'd forgotten which level I'd accomplished, but somewhere after failing three times, I gave up on advancing my swimming lessons. Swimming was for fishes, sharks, and Verne's Nautilus. I was a happy land-dweller.

"When are you heading out?" Dad asked, after telling me the five humiliating—yet humorous—stories I'd been expecting.

"An hour," I said. "I was just doing some reading."

"School work?" he asked sternly.

I lifted my shoulders and smiled apologetically. "Not exactly," I admitted, "but it will be in a month. I started reading ahead because I was getting frustrated with Chaucer."

Dad's expression became blank. "Chaucer," he repeated. "What did he write again?"

"Um, lots," I said. "You know that movie _A Knight's Tale_? It had Heath Ledger in it. The actor who played the Joker in _The Dark Knight_."

Dad's forehead wrinkled. "He wrote that?"

I laughed and shook my head. "No, the movie is based on something Chaucer wrote. Plus, added bonus, Chaucer is also a character in the movie. The one who has his clothes taken from him; twice."

Dad "awww'd", finally understanding. I'd watched it with him twice. It was one of my favourites when I was in the mood to see some jousting, have a laugh, and hear a few lines of witty banter. He was willing to watch it because there was a time when he was willing to play with_ Barbie_ dolls just to spend time with me—and I always made him act out the bratty character that was banished in the end. Part of me felt he was still that way—although both of us drew the line at dolls.

* * *

><p>It was weird showing up at the beach. Not weird getting there. It was easy enough to find Mike's dad's shop. Piling in the car with a group of giddy, ready-to-party people sets a certain mood, like no matter how you're feeling something exciting will happen that day.<p>

The weird part was that I had to force myself to look pleased as the sand sifted under my soles, the sound of the water wafting against the shore. It was like the Terminator smiling. Period.

Mike had been overly pleased I'd come. He said it was because of the old 'more the merrier' saying. I didn't believe him. If it'd been about numbers, he'd have been looking at my face when he spoke to me, not my breasts. I regretted wearing the bikini top. I regretted it with a fiery passion. I owned one bikini and this was my first time wearing it.

Jess looked great in a bikini, in a way I never could. Confidence. It was something she had, and something I wish was sold in a bottle. Hell, if there were a confidence drug, I would gladly be a confidence addict.

Then again, there was such thing as a confidence addict. The exact term was "bitch". The masculine was "bastard who things he's the shit". If I were either of those things, I wouldn't be able to face my father again.

Jessica and Angie complimented my swimsuit and I complimented theirs. Lauren just nodded. It was like jungle law. If there were no complimented shared, we'd have to eat each other. And considering none of us were vampires, I was certain no one wanted to shed any blood.

Jess grabbed Mike's hand and dragged him into the water. That began the frenzy. A couple beach chairs, some blankets, and clothes were strewn across the small stretch of beach, trailing towards the water. Everyone dove in. Angie looked at me, nodding her head toward the water, smiling invitingly. I sighed and began the saunter toward the fish.  
>Angie ran in. I took a deep breath and forced myself to walk until I was waist deep.<p>

The water wasn't warm. Oh no. Not warm. It wasn't freezing, but I still hesitated when the coolness seeped into my skin. I felt a mix of small pebbles and sand under my feet. I stared into the murky water, both looking for and hoping not to see fish.

It was in that moment that I questioned if fearing fish was insane behaviour.

A plastic ball bonked my head. I only knew what it what when I spotted it in front of me, spinning slightly in the water, the bright colours glaring at me. I picked up the beach ball and looked around to see where it had come from.

Lauren. She grinned. Like a demon. She waved, pretending she didn't mean it and was asking for the ball back. I was torn between chucking it at her face as hard as I could and simply throwing it further, far from her reach and hopefully a whale would carry it out to sea. And then that whale would eat her.

I smiled, nodded, and came closer to her. Eric, Lauren, Angie, and an unfamiliar boy were all playing. I invited myself into their circle. Lauren hated that. The wicked side of me loved it. My premonition earlier had been right. The van of party-ready people had created something exciting for me.

After a few hours of swimming and water games, and a few rounds of beach volleyball, we settled into beach chairs and blankets. A bonfire was built. Someone had been clever enough to bring marshmallows. I stuffed a few especially toasty ones in my mouth.

I still felt like Edward was watching me from the shadows, but I'd had fun. Despite thinking I wouldn't, I truly had.

The bonfire created the opportunity for stories to be told. First was the average, How I Got This Scar stories, which revealed an impressive display of stunts and demonstrations. I was tempted to share my own scar stories, but they were all from klutzy situations that no one would be impressed at. I wasn't in the mood to be laughed at.

Eventually the interesting, simple day-to-day-life stories had all been told. That's when they arrived, teens from the reservation. Most of them had long black hair, and it looked so natural on them, not at all like the wigs actors wore in period-piece movies. Their skin was rusty-brown, and had a golden glow when the sun shone on their faces. A couple of them looked shy when they approached, but some in the front had casual yet cocky grins. I didn't recognize any of them, but apparently there was some connection, as they had no trouble integrating into our crowd.

The sun was shining down from above, tilting to the west. That meant it was past noon. I dug into the bag I'd brought with me for my cellphone. It was three o'clock. I felt pretty proud of myself for being clever enough to tell the time using the sun. Not that I was ready to be thrown in the wild, expected to survive on my own, but it was a start.

The tales told had grown a darker tone, they had more gossip—more fiction, less fact. Apparently someone had drowned at this very beach and if you came here alone the ghost would drown you. It was one of the last things I'd wanted to hear.

The absolute last thing I wanted to hear came up soon after.

One of the reservation teens—a boy who'd obviously been making eyes at me—sat next to me. He gave me his hand and grinned.

"I'm Jacob Black," he introduced.

I took his hand. His skin was so warm. For a moment I was reminded of Edward's lifeless touch.

"Bella," I said. "Swan."

"I thought so," he said with a short laugh.

I narrowed my eyes. Apparently everyone had heard I was coming, even the reservation kids? It gave a new meaning to small town. Unless it was more common for in-towners and reservation kids to hang out than I'd presumed.

"You're the new owner of my dad's truck," he explained. "The red one."

My eyes widened. "Oh. Billy Black's truck."

Jacob Black. Billy Black's son. The son of the guy who Dad had gotten the cherry red truck from. Hm. I had to debate between putting him on my "automatic dislike" or my "automatic like" list. One the one hand, a truck is a truck is a truck. At least I wasn't receiving rides to school in a police cruiser each morning. One the other hand…well, regardless of my love or hate of the truck, it wasn't Jacob's old truck; it was Billy's.

"That's the one," Jacob assured me. "I'm not surprised you didn't recognize me. I wouldn't want to associate with the original owners of that pathetic hand-me-down either."

I fought a grin. "It's not terrible," I said. "It runs. That makes me happy enough."

He smiled, his eyes meeting mine with a daring expression. "Good to hear that," he said. "I'd have to do something about it if you weren't."

"Do what?" I frowned. "Make it into a racecar?"

"If that's what you wanted," he said with a shrug.

I laughed, mostly because he seemed ridiculous to me. "How would you do that? You a mechanic?"

"Not professionally," he said, "but maybe someday. I've fixed up more than a few old beaters."

My eyebrow lifted. I was impressed by people who could fix cars—mostly because I barely knew what an engine looked like, never mind making an old car run fairly well.

"I'm the reason the old truck is still alive today," he bragged.

"You've saved my truck's life," I said. "How old are you that you're the reason I have a ride to school each day? I was pretty sure the mechanics behind being a mechanic came with age. Unless you're a natural virtuoso with a wrench."

He chuckled, his cheeks reddening. He looked away from me, eyes staring into the fire. "I'm just a year younger than you, Bella," he said.

"You know how old I am?" I asked, surprised.

"Our dads never shut up about us," he revealed eagerly. "I've heard a lot about you through the grapevine. I'm surprised you don't know everything about me, the way my dad likes to brag."

I blushed. "I hope my dad shared only good things."

"Seems like there are only good things to tell, anyway."

I laughed and looked away, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I didn't say anything, and that made Jacob nervous. He fidgeted, unsure whether I was allowing him to stay or if my silence meant he was in the way.

"So…"

I looked back at him. He stared at the sand, his face flushed.

For someone a year younger, Jacob was pretty fine in the looks department. He wasn't my usual type, but the way he smiled made me feel young—and I completely forgot about Edward the entire time Jacob struggled to converse with me, throwing in some accidentally obvious flirting.

Yes, Jacob was on the good list now. I'd have to remember him when thoughts of Edward overwhelmed me. At least there was one person on the planet that was enough of Edward's opposite to console me.

"I'm glad I met you, Jacob Black," I said sincerely. I was smiling without any lingering doubts hanging over me for once.

Jacob met my eyes. My words had caught him off guard. He tried to smile, but instead his mouth hung open. A sound that was a mix between a laugh an a sigh escaped and he glanced at the fire again.

I didn't know what I was doing, but somehow I'd made yet another guy fall for me. This time though, it felt different than that past transgressions. I didn't mind.

I felt the glow of the fire blocked. Lauren had stepped in front of me, sucking up all the heat from the flames. Her eyes were icy. Her eyes darted between Jacob and I. She was psychotically aimed at my destruction. Seeing me happy ticked her off for no reason, and now she had to find a way to ruin even this moment.

"Interesting that I find you sampling the locals," Lauren hissed. "I think your boy toy Edward wouldn't be pleased by that."

My face flushed. I couldn't contain my glare.

"Wonder why you didn't invited him," she continued. "You seem to really enjoy keeping them all waiting in the wings. No one is good enough for Bella Swan."

I was both mortified and infuriated. What had I ever done to her to deserve this hatred toward me?

Jacob's head turned toward me. I caught his hurt expression out of the corner of my eye. Thanks to Lauren, he was thinking I'd led him on for my own selfish amusement.

I was going to kill Lauren.

I stood and made sure the close proximity between us was filled my animosity. I gave her my coldest glare—one I'd used on Edward just the day before. It was a glare reserved for my enemies.

"Not that it matters, Lauren, but I don't like Edward," I clarified, my voice almost a growl. "I don't like any of the Cullens. Just because you got turned down doesn't mean you take that out on me." I narrowed my eyes and lowered my voice. "And I don't leave guys waiting in the wings. I'm not a bitch, like _some_ people are, _Lauren_."

Her skin turned red like summer tomatoes. Her hands clenched into fists. She looked ready to hit me or maybe run away crying. The insult in her eyes made me feel guilty for a moment, but the moment past when she spoke again.

"Your so pathetic, Bella," she hissed loudly.

A few heads turned toward us. I flinched under their curious eyes.

"You pretend you don't like the Cullens," she continued savagely, "because you know you're exactly like them. You. Don't. Fit. In."

My deepest fear had been laid out, clear for everyone to see. My chest felt tight. I wasn't sure I remembered how to breathe.

"That's why they don't get invited anywhere," she added. "It won't before everyone realizes you're the same and they won't—"

"The Cullens aren't here," Jacob said loudly. He stood, putting his hand protectively on my shoulder.

Lauren's eyes narrowed. "_What_?"

"Bella is here," he said, less loudly. "That's all there is to day about it."

Lauren rolled her eyes and moaned. "I don't give a shit about—"

"The Cullens don't come here."

I looked behind me to where this deep voice had come from. It was one of the teens that'd come with Jacob. He was tall—like, Godzilla—and thick, buff, and he wore his hair short. His dark eyes looked angry.

Him standing behind me was enough to intimidate Lauren. She backed off. She waved her hand and wobbled off. I questioned if that wobble was the result of Jacob's pal intimidating her ankles into snapping or if there was alcohol involved in Lauren's attack on me.

I shook myself and half-turned to face both Jacob and his friend. His friend nodded sharply at me and then turned. I nodded at his back, unsure what that really meant.

"I'm beginning to see what you meant about Charlie only sharing the 'good things' about you," Jacob teased. "I didn't realize you had a sworn enemy."

"Depends on what kind of swearing you mean," I said with a sigh. "If I had to say an oath to pick an enemy, I wouldn't have picked her."

Jacob frowned, bobbed his head once, and then narrowed his eyes. "How about we go for a walk?"

I cocked a brow. I wasn't sure where this was coming from.

"Get the stress out of your system," he explained. He nodded toward the shoreline. "Come on. I insist."

I questioned his hidden agenda when I saw a sparkle in his dark eyes. But I didn't refuse. There were still some lingering glances from those who'd observed the spectacle between Lauren and I. I wanted to get away for a moment.

We walked in silence for a minute. I watched seagulls in the sky, circling. Seagulls were the beach's version of less impressive vultures. They dove down whenever something interesting caught their eyes. Edible or not, it ended up in their beak.

"How are you liking Forks?" Jacob asked.

"Your question implies that I have to like it to some degree," I said with a smirk. "Lucky for you its true. I'm liking it fine."

He sighed. "Fine is a funny word. People who say it aren't fine."

"True," I agreed. "So let me change my word to 'okay', since that's the honest answer."

Jacob smiled sadly. "You're being cliché, Bella," he warned. "New girl, new town, has trouble adjusting? Sound familiar?"

He was right. But that didn't change anything.

"I do like it here," I insisted. I knotted my fingers together, my feet stopping on their own. "I love parts of it. Besides the weirdness Lauren just showed me, my friends are great."

"That's good," Jacob cheered. "Focus on the good. I'm sure everything else pales in comparison."

I exhaled heavily. Speaking of pale…I was reminded again of the one bad that overpowered the good I'd secured for myself.

I lifted my head. "Can I be honest with you?" I asked quietly.

He nodded enthusiastically, taking a giant step toward me. "Absolutely. You can trust me with anything. Cross my heart, hope to die if I ever tell."

I grinned. "That was a little too much, Jacob."

"Jake," he corrected.

I blinked. He'd introduced himself as Jacob, hadn't he?

He smiled shyly. "Jake is what my friends call me."

The corners of my lips lifted. Beyond my control, I felt trust between us. In the same way I'd know Edward was different from that very first moment we'd met, I felt the same about Jacob. If did die because of Edward—if my world would end, Jacob was the fire and Edward was the ice. Until the end, I felt that Jake's heat would keep Edward's darkness at bay.

I questioned if I was being overly dramatic. Or cliché, as Jake would say. But I was so fragile when it came to thoughts of Edward. If I was crazy for feeling comfortable around Jake, then so be it. I preferred insanity.

"Jake," I said. "You might have noticed the Edward Cullen accusation."

"Ah," he said with a frown. "I heard."

"I haven't told anyone this yet…" I dropped my eyes to the ground. "You have to swear not to tell anyone—including my…including Charlie." I lifted my head sharply. "So this secret is to never to be spoken after this moment."

He looked uncertain. He was worried I was about to tell him something dangerous. He was right.

Jake traced an 'x' over his heart, them mimed locking his lips with a key. "I swear. I won't tell a soul."

Part of me was sad he'd sworn. I might have told him even if he hadn't promised not to tell a responsible adult—which might get back to a certain gun-wielding police chief.

"I don't know if you know this, but Edward and the other Cullens are sort of liked by everyone," I informed, "but in the same way people like movie stars. They don't usually allow anyone near them. But it's not the same for me." I shrugged my right shoulder. "Edward won't leave me alone."

Jake's eyes narrowed with concern. And there was heat in his eyes. "Won't leave you alone…what way?"

I bit my lip and stared into his eyes. I wanted him to understand without me saying it.

Jake's eyes widened. He stepped back, turning his eyes back to the bonfire. He shook his head, putting his hands on his hips. He exhaled. His eyes were definitely angry.

"So Edward Cullen is stalking you," he filled-in, "but you won't tell anyone—and you won't let me tell anyone?"

I nodded once.

"Forget it," he argued. "That's crazy."

"What's crazy is that he isn't…" I took a deep breath. I'd said I would keep his secret—but I'd specifically told him that I didn't keep the secrets of bag guys. "Isn't _human_."

Jacob's body hardened. He didn't move. His eyes were wide, with a hint of fright in them.

"Don't accuse me of being crazy," I warned him angrily, my eyes watering. "I know I'm not, no matter what you think. Even if I told someone, there's nothing any _human_ could do."

Jacob's eyes slowly shifted to meet mine. "What, exactly," he murmured, "do you think he is?"

I crossed my arms and shrugged. "I don't know. Inhuman."

Jake's eyes glanced between the bonfire and me. "Keep it that way," he said, "and stay away from him."

Jake shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and started walking toward the bonfire. "Come on. We should get back."

I raced in front of him and grabbed his arm. "You know something!" I accused.

He shook his head. "That's ridiculous."

I gripped his arm tighter. "You totally know something," I insisted. "I can see it. What do you know about…_what_ he is?"

"I can't say." It was a confirmation that he knew something.

"Its not just him, its all the Cullens," I realized. "They're all something not human."

He still didn't speak.

"Your friend, back at the bonfire, he said the Cullens don't come here," I recalled. "He meant something more than they just don't like this beach."

"It's hard to explain without telling the whole story," he said. "It's one of those stories that would be easily found in fiction—but my people tell it as truth."

I shivered. Fiction. Yes, Edward was a demon from fiction. "Then tell me the whole story," I begged. "I need to know what I've got myself into."

"Its not a nice story," he warned.

I released his arm. "I can handle it."

"It's a story about…the Cold Ones," he said in a hushed tone.

I pursed my lips and debated if I really wanted to hear this after all. I looked up at the sun, still blazing in the clear blue sky. It was warm, but there were goose bumps on my arm.

"It's what you would call a vampire story," he whispered.

My heart started beating faster. Maybe hearing a scary story right now wasn't a good idea—even if it contained the answers I needed.

"What do vampires have to do with the Cullens?" I asked. Suddenly my reason for finding Edward frightening doubled.

"Strictly speaking," Jacob admitted reluctantly, "I'm not allowed to tell outsiders, because it's part of a pact between my people and the Cold Ones."

"Cold Ones," I repeated. "So if they're a sort of vampire, I assume this stories involved undead blood drinkers rising from coffins at night and burning in the sun."

"Not exactly, especially since sunlight doesn't harm them," Jacob corrected. "It does involve a lot of blood-drinking."

"Well, why don't you summarize," I suggested, "You've already told me so much that I think we can ignore the whole pact thing."

His eyes narrowed. "The pact was made between my great-grandfather and a group of the Cold Ones once. They kept off our land—agreed to never hunt my people—in exchange for never revealing them as what they really were to"—he smirked for a second—"the pale-faces."

"So your great-grandfather, I'm guessing he was a chief or something?" I paused to give Jacob a chance to shrug, telling me something was lost on translation. "He managed to keep them away with just a treaty—a promise." That made me reconsider Edward's suggestion that he get to know me so he wouldn't want to hurt me. Was that the modern, high school version of a treaty?

"The Cold Ones were traditionally our enemies, but this group my great-grandfather met were different."

"Your…ancestors were the enemies of the Cold Ones?" I questioned. "Were they monster hunters?"

"Werewolves, Bella," he answered. "My ancestors were skin-walkers. Men that could turn into wolves."

"Werewolves versus vampires," I said with awe. That made sense.

"My great-grandfather made the treaty with them because they didn't hunt humans," he continued, his eyes staring worriedly at the ground. "They only drank the blood of animals."

Vampires that didn't drink human blood? What, did they eat rats like Louis from _Interview with the Vampire_?

"Don't think that means they're good," Jake warned. He met my eyes with icy ferocity. "My people have a long enough history fighting evil and blood-thirsty Cold Ones to prove the majority of them are ice cold killers."

My heart stopped. "Ice cold."

"They're called the Cold Ones," he explained, "because their skin is ice cold."

"Edward," I whispered hoarsely.

Jake's body tensed.

I grabbed Jake's shoulder suddenly. "The Cold Ones, the Cullens, are they…?" I felt my heart sputtering madly. "Are the Cullens new vampires in town?"

Jake put his hand over mine. "They're the same vampires," he said mutedly, his eyes tight. "They're the _same_ Cold Ones my great-grandfather made the treaty with. They've been alive, unchanging for all that time, and maybe since before that time."

I pulled my hand away and took a step back. I ran my hands through my hair.

His expression saddened, becoming bitter. "They are never aging, because they've had human blood. Maybe they stopped, but at one point, all vampires have been murderers."

"Edward…is…" I felt like I was being strangled. I remembered Edward's hand on my throat. "But they don't kill anymore." I slowly raised my head. "He's creepy, but he's said he won't hurt me." _If he can help it, anyway._

"It's just a story," Jacob reassured me.

I wasn't reassured.

"So how do you kill a Cold One?" I demanded.

Jacob balked. "What?"

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "How do you kill it, what are its weaknesses," I listed. "Is there a way to make it stay away from you? Is there a protection thingy or a spell? A stake? A Buffy?"

"Whoa, whoa," Jacob said, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Calm down, Bella. I told you, it's a story. I didn't mean for you to take it so seriously. You're probably imagining that he seems inhuman."

I stared at him pleadingly. I needed those answers.

His eyes tightened, and he seemed ready to question my sanity, but he thought better of it. "The only effective methods I know of is a skin-walker, a werewolf," he answered. "And fire. You have to burn every piece of the vampire; _every single piece_; otherwise it can re-assemble itself."

My eyes popped wide open. "Re-assemble itself," I repeated. "So they don't give up that easily. Admirable trait. I get knocked down, get back up again; I get literally torn apart, I still get back up again."

"I don't know what a stake would do," he continued, "and I think Buffy stopped solving vampire mysteries when she hopped aboard the Mystery Machine."

"Darn," I sighed. "Maybe I'll takeover for her. You think the pay's good?"

Jacob snorted and laughed. "I don't think so," he said, taking a step back and shoving his hands in his pockets. "But you let me know if you find an ad. Vampire slaying is in my blood after all—so the legends say—I might be a good sidekick."

"Hm." I considered having a sidekick for a short moment. "Nope. I think you can be Buffy and I'll be the sidekick. You're the one with the kick-Cold-One-ass blood in you."

"Fair enough," he agreed. "You're my sidekick then."

Huzzah. I was a sidekick. And I knew what Edward was. Not bad for a lazy day at the beach. I'd try to remember how much one could accomplish where the sand meets the sea.

* * *

><p>The beach day ended quickly after that. Maybe it wasn't quick, but I was so distracted that I wasn't paying attention to anything. Jake sat quietly by my side, worriedly watching me go crazy thinking over what to do with my newly acquired knowledge—mostly wondering if there was a way to turn myself into a skin-walker.<p>

Everyone began packing up. Warily I readied to tag along. I felt safer at the beach knowing the Cold Ones couldn't come onto reservation land. But Charlie would worry if I suddenly because a beach addict.

"I'm hoping to get my license soon…" Jake said hopefully, his eyes meeting mine, begging for encouragement.

"You better stop by and see me," I ordered. "And I promise to do the same, if I'm ever in the neighbourhood."

He grinned goofily. "Okay."

I could only hope my truce with Edward allowed me enough time alive to see Jacob again.

The drive back to Forks was long and tiring. The noise and content chatter was all around me. I spoke occasionally, agreeing that we'd have to come back if the weather ever allowed it again. Mostly I remained silent, and tried very…very hard…not to think about what was waiting for me in Forks.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: Another chapter. Pretty, pretty please, do review! I hope you liked. ^.^<p> 


	8. Chapter 7: Nightmare

_7. NIGHTMARE_

I TOLD CHARLIE I HAD A LOT OF HOMEWORK TO DO, AND I DIDN'T WANT ANYTHING TO EAT. The truth was, it wasn't homework that made my stomach clench against food, it was the thought of blood-drinkers, and the close-to-home blood-drinkers I could not identify.

I was beyond tuckered out, but even though my body felt like a boulder trying to stay afloat in the ocean, my mind was buzzing. The best cure was dance music, blaring until my ears bled.

I crawled onto my bed, put on my headphones, pressed play. I let the music throttle me until—a decade of songs later—I fell asleep.

It was a restless sleep, but not without images. I was sucked into a nightmare—different from my usual dream formula with Edward.

The first thing I saw was the blue-black sky. There was barely a sliver of silver moon. Trees charged in, surrounding me from every angle, closing in on me. A heard a wolf's howl. I jumped around to see Jacob standing there. He stood at the edge of the trees, reaching his hand toward me.

"Its almost too late," he warned. "You have to run."

The trees started spinning.

"Where can I run to?" I asked desperately.

He reached his arm as far as he could, but he wouldn't step forward. "Run with me," he shouted. "Run now!"

"Bella," a tempting voice whispered. He was distant, his voice a sleepy, timid sound.

I stepped toward Jacob. "Where can I run to?" I asked. "He's already found me!"

"It's not too late yet." Jacob, begging, stretching his fingertips, spoke with a tight vice, his eyes frightened for my fate. "You can still run with me!"

I felt a cool hand fold around my neck, an icy presence behind me.

I reached an arm toward Jacob, but when I met his eyes I saw that he'd stepped back. His arm was lowered. His expression was tormented and sad.

"Why wouldn't you run with me?" he asked sorrowfully, his voice tight.

"It was already too late when he found me," I answered.

"There was time," Jacob cried, "if you'd only fought harder."

I tried to speak again, but the forest dove around Jacob, swallowing him up, hiding him from me. I tried to shout after him, but the icy grip tightened around my throat.

I choked and grabbed at the hand. The second my hand touched his, he took my hand and swung me out, like a spin in a dance. My hand was released. I gathered my surroundings in time to see him standing a foot away from me, grinning ever so slightly, fangs poking down into his lower lip.

"I can't stay away from you anymore," he hissed.

"I know."

"And you…sweet, Bella, you can't stay away from…"

I sat up with a scream in my throat, sweat on my face. I was awake. My tongue rolled off his name. "Edward."

I took a few deep breaths and laid my head down again. I glanced at my alarm clock.

It was long before any decent waking hour. There was no way I was ready to face a dawn with so little rest.

I yanked the covers over my legs and put my headphones on again, but this time I chose a playlist of my more peaceful songs. Maybe that would help quiet my nightmarish mind.

I did manage to fall asleep again, but the nightmare just started up again. This time, Jacob didn't even bother to reach for me. He simply asked again and again why I hadn't fought harder, why I hadn't taken his hand when I had the chance. It was torture, being accused that I was so weak that I couldn't even _run away_.

Instead of a gasp or a scream, I woke up crying, tears soaking drops into my pillowcase.

When I woke again, it was ten-thirty. Although my body was rested, my brain was drained. I was angry and bitter, but unsure what to do about it.

Edward, a vampire; a Cold One; what could I do with that information?

I hoped the Internet had an answer.

I searched up Jacob's 'Cold Ones', and I looked up everything I could about the traits I'd seen Edward display (namely cold skin and super-strength). Neither search came up with promising results. The world of media was too full of bad and good, ugly and beautiful vampires. There wasn't enough real stuff. I'd never sort it all out.

Things were easier in Buffy's world. I wished a simple stake would do the trick.

At one point, I found a site that seemed to list exactly what I was going through. I got excited that I was nearing my answer…! And then…I realized it was a fan-fiction site. Great. How would I ever learn to tell the real from the fake?

I eventually found a site that was definitely legitimately factual. It listed things like what the vampirism myth was based off, some sort of disease that made your skin turn pale and other things. It mentioned various legends that had historical facts backing up parts of the story. It even said that there was no way a stake would kill a vampire—but fire or a great amount of brute strength to attack the vampire was a good idea. Those were both things Jake's Cold Ones legend had included.

I found many references to books that weren't stocked on the shelves of a small-town school library, which made it a tad more expensive to find the answers I was looking for. The library in Port Angeles had a lot of the books I was looking for. I pulled out a notepad and wrote a few of the titles down, just in case I ended up in the city in the future.

I spent most of the day stressing over what about vampires was fact and what was fiction. In the end I said to hell with it and started doing my homework early. I'd finished it all by the time Dad came home. He said he'd gone fishing with Billy Black. I was reminded of my agreement to meet Jake again. I hoped I would, and soon. He was one of the few people in this chaos that made me feel like the glass could be half full, if I only willed it to be. Maybe seeing my friends again would help chase away the nightmares.

Dad started cooking dinner—hamburgers, as he knew all about barbeques and I knew nothing—while I called Jessica. I tried to be subtle but insistent that I needed to go out, go out anywhere, and quick.

Jessica was no stranger to going out, so she immediately found an excuse. Shoes. Ah, having girly friends was always a blessing when I needed distraction. Jess invited Angie, and a few texts later; we were headed to Port Angeles tomorrow afternoon. If I had time, maybe I could stop by the library.

I reported the news to Dad as we ate supper, and his remark was that he was pretty sure I just went to Port Angeles. I told him it was a teenage girl thing. He eagerly accepted that reason, not wanting to enter into the horrors of why teenage girls act like teenage girls. I couldn't blame him.

When Dad asked me what I'd done all day, I left out the sketchy vampire hunting and skipped to the brilliant report that I'd done all my homework for the next week. I'd impressed him enough that he probably wouldn't question my want to go to Port Angeles ever again.

The next day I was jittery with excitement. Another chance to escape Forks! Another chance to pretend I didn't have a vampire stalker!

When Jessica's honk alerted her to being outside my house, I skipped merrily all the way to her car. Her engine was the sound of freedom. I slid into the front seat and exhaled. It was good for the soul to get out of town.

"Boy, you're in a good mood," Jessica observed, her expression showing her curiousness. Her eyes narrowed and the corner of her lip turned up. "Something good happen you want to share?"

Angie leaned around her seat to look at me, sitting in the back. "Did something good happen between you and that guy from the beach?" she asked.

My face flushed. "He was sweet, but no," I insisted. "I just really needed to get out of Forks for a while."

"Amen, sister," Jess agreed cheerily. "Plus driving to Port Angeles moves the plot forward."

"Good to know," I muttered.

Angie smirked and faced forward, adjusting her seatbelt. I did the same, feeling like I was headed off to Disneyland. Anywhere was better than here.


	9. Chapter 8: Port Angeles

_8. PORT ANGELES_

JESS DROVE FASTER THAN THE CHIEF, SO WE MADE IT TO PORT ANGELES BY [TWO]. It was an afternoon filled with superficial thoughts that comfortably numbed me. I didn't need to think while talking to Jessica. That was what was great about her. She steered the conversation toward Mike again and again, even when Angie tried to change the topic so that all of us could express an opinion. Jess was insistent.

Shoe shopping had turned Jess into the devil on my shoulder and Angie the angel. I ended up listening to Angie more than Jess, which resulted in Jess buying the shoes I rejected. Not all of them, but it was a buy two get one free sale. Jess couldn't resist.

We visited several stores. Shoes, clothes, and jewelry caught our eyes, and while Jess walked away with three new pairs of shoes, Angie bought pink rose earrings and I a flower-pattern-on-white knee-length skirt. With our wallets weight lessened, we decided the shopping was done for the day.

We headed for the restaurant-centric part of the city. I saw the library pass outside the window.

"Wait a minute, can we stop by the library?" I asked.

Jess snorted. "The library? We have a pretty decent one at school, you know."

"Not really," Angie disagreed mutedly. "It's impossible to find anything extra in there. It's the bare minimum. One book less and you couldn't call it a library."

"I guess I was mistaken," Jess said. She steered into the lot between the library and the bank. She didn't speak again for a while, probably so she wouldn't have to admit that she'd barely put a toe into the school library.

I'd wanted to go straight for the mythology section, where the first book on my list waited, but Jess and Angie dragged me to the spinning racks of cheesy romance novels. We laughed at the many faces of Fabio and recited the worst lines in hushed tones. Jess yanked Angie into the magazine section and I slipped away. I went through my list, skimming through the book quickly, finding the chapters that had seemed useful. Most of my list took a minute to peek through. The second last book in my list mentioned the Cold One legend and I read through it. It was a little different from Jake's interpretation, but not in any way that mattered. Just a different encounter of their species—but still, they were cold to the touch, they drank blood, and they had super strength.

Jess tapped on my shoulder from behind. I jumped, clutching the book to my chest. Jess laughed and apologized.

"We were thinking it's time to leave," Jess informed. "It's getting late and my stomach is in the mood for fries ASAP."

I stared at the book in my hands. I had one more book to check out. "I just have one more book I wanted to look at. Can you wait?"

Jess bounced on the heels of her feet. "Ugh. Come on. What is it with you gals and books? Instead of Bella, you should've been named just Belle."

Angie giggled. "Beauty & the Beast, huh?" She shook her head.

"How about this, the restaurant is less than a block away, we can meet you there," Jess suggested. "I can hear Angie's stomach rumbling—and mine will be joining hers soon if I don't go now."

Angie blushed and put a hand to her gut for a second. She frowned and met my eyes, apologizing for her hunger being so obvious.

"You can see it from here," Jess insisted.

"Alright," I agreed. "I'll be fifteen minutes. Save me a seat."

"We'll order you fries," Angie promised.

Jess and Angie left slowly, giving me more time to catch up. I slipped the book back onto the shelf and went to find that last book.

It was easy to find, it was less easy to understand. My confusion over the material told me I was probably on the right track. The book was simply entitled 'Vampyres: What They Believed Then and The Accounts That Verify It'. That mouthful had turned me off at first, but as soon as I saw references to the Cold Ones, then changing eye colour was mentioned in the 'Possible Traits' chapter, I was hooked. I immediately turned to the chapter about their weaknesses.

Fifteen minutes had passed and I still wasn't satisfied. I went to the front desk and checked out the book. Even if _all_ of it wasn't true, I had the feeling _some_ of it _had_ to be.

It was six o'clock according to my cell—which meant we'd spent a long time wandering around the city. It was a wonder we hadn't emptied our pockets to buy a few more skirts, earrings, and shoes. I was just glad I'd found the book I wanted. I tried to think up a way to hide it so Jess wouldn't see it and tease me. Maybe I could convince her I was brainstorming for an accurate Halloween costume.

The outside air was cold and the sun was falling from the sky, painting the city in shadows. The lights coming from the library windows were bright, but not bright enough to fill every dark corner. I hugged my purse closed and walked a little faster. I had a weird feeling buzzing in my head. It was probably uncalled for paranoia, but that didn't stop me from keeping my eyes forward and legs pumping at a near run.

The restaurant was in full view, just as Jessica had said, so that reassured me. The street was strangely naked though; the only car was parked and empty. I tried to tell myself that it wasn't dark yet, and this wasn't a back alley. Someone would have to be really stupid to do anything out in the open.

That stupid someone grabbed my arm and dragged me into the alley before I had time to scream—before I had time to blink.

His hot, clammy hand covered my mouth. There were two others with him. One of them helped restrained my arms, jumping back whenever I tried to kick at him. My eyes darted to each of them, unable to think of what it meant. Why were they there? Why was I there?

"Did you think we wouldn't find you, Karen?" the one covering my mouth said. His voice was deep, rough, old.

The two holding me laughed. A flicker of hope filled me. I wasn't Karen. They were wrong. It wasn't me they were after! I tried to say it, but they wouldn't let me speak.

"We know all about your investigation," the second man said. He was younger, but he smelled older, like he was rotting, covered dust and moldy ham. His face was close to mine and he breathed on me. It was toxic.

The third man flicked a lit cigarette to the ground. My eyes caught the spark of orange fall, and then get stamped out.

"It's not her," the third man said. He shoved a hand into the pocket of his long, black leather coat.

The other two went still. The second man let go of me, but I wasn't released.

"How do you know?" the fist asked.

The third man stuck a hand in his other pocket and pulled out a small, white board. He turned it around. It was a photograph. The man brought it close to me. "Look at her face. It's not her."

"Damn it," the second man said. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I was sure she walked by at this hour."

"She does look a lot like her," the first man said. He yanked my head to the side to inspect my face. He laughed. He had yellow-stained teeth and a thick, wiry black beard.

"She's seen our faces," the second man said.

The third man shrugged. He turned his back to me. "Unlucky for her."

My blood hardened into ice. 'Unlucky for her,' he'd said, that meant… They were going to kill me.

I screamed, but the clammy hand muffled the sound. The man holding me dragged me further into the alley. I would never be heard from. They'd take me somewhere I wouldn't be seen. The more I struggled, the more I was restrained. Even if I shook off one guy, there was one man ahead of me and one following behind. I'd learned a couple defensive moves in my life, but I wasn't sure I remember them. I had no chance to fight off three guys. I was so afraid that I didn't care if them saw me cry. In fact, I hoped seeing me cry would make them feel pity.

It didn't work.

I'd never been big into religion. So, about to die, I wasn't sure if there was anyone willing to listen. My brain was too scrambled to try. But the word 'please' kept repeating in my mind. I wasn't sure if some higher power could hear that please, interpret it, and send a bolt of lightning to smite the three guys abducting me—or maybe temporarily make me into Thor so I could beat them up and fly away afterwards—but I was sure it was the closest I'd come to praying in my life.

Except God wasn't listening. Far from it, maybe even the opposite. I heard a mangled shout from behind me and even though I knew it wasn't an angel, I was thankful someone had been watching over me.

The man's hand slipped from my mouth. I took a breath and stomped on his foot. When he reached for me I jabbed my heel hard into his groin. When he gargled in pain, I almost smiled. I almost giggled. That was probably the adrenaline. Maybe it was impossible for anyone not to smile when death had been so close.

Apparently the kick to the groin hadn't been enough to stop him. His arm gripped my wrist and yanked so hard I was worried he'd pull my hand off. The standard damsel-in-distress shriek came from my throat. I tried kicking again, because my arms wouldn't move.

I met the man's eyes in time to see his head twist. The bubbling crunch as his eyes pulled from mine made bile rise up my tongue. I felt his weight drag me down, only to feel his fingers pried off my wrist by an icy hand. My eyes followed the man as he thumped against the rough pavement.

Before I could look up to see who that hand belonged to—and how the man who'd bound me was lying with his chest on the pavement, his head face-up—I heard a shriek and a crunch behind me. I turned to see the third man who'd wanted to kill me was now missing an arm.

My stomach spewed up more bile. I hunched over and tried to use the force to keep my insides from coming out.

An all-too-familiar voice spoke then. "I'd like to hurt you more, but…lucky for you…"

I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see what _he_ considered lucky.

I was suddenly breathless. I opened my eyes, but looked in the direction of the street, away from my ruthless rescuer. I thought it would be safer to not see what had become of the third man—but the first and second were lying on the pavement exactly where I'd looked. One had his head spun in the wrong direction like a grotesque owl and the other was—thankfully, facedown—lying in a gleaming pool of red.

My lungs sharply inhaled. I put a hand to my mouth and backed against a wall. I slid against it, headed for the street. I couldn't peel my eyes from the corpses. More tears spilled over my cheeks.

I'd almost escaped when a hand grabbed me. I screamed, louder than I thought possible. Maybe I could be hired as that girl in horror movies whose only purpose for being in the film was her wonderfully shrill, deafening scream.

"Bella."

I couldn't speak. My scream had made me mute.

"It's me," Edward said. "Calm down, you're safe."

My knees buckled and my back slid down the wall. My haggard breathing gave way to sobs. I hid my face in my hands. Snot dripped down over my lips. I wiped it away hastily, taking away some of the tears too.

"You're safe," he repeated. His voice was soft, warm—so different from the cold hand skin that wiped a tear from my chin.

I yanked my head back when he touched me, banging it into the brick wall.

"Careful, Bella," he said, reaching for my head.

I shivered and closed my eyes. "Don't you touch me," I shrieked. My voice was much louder than I'd wanted it to be.

I shivered and sobbed for a minute. He didn't speak. I felt afraid, thinking that he had run away, that I was alone.

I opened my eyes and was about to shout his name, when I saw his legs. He was standing in front of me, not too far, but not too close to make me scream at him again.

"I can't stay here," he said. His voice was low, cold, the same venomous voice that had spoken to that man before he'd killed him.

I leaned my tilted my bruised crown against the wall to look up at him. His eyes nervously watched the streets. My screams had probably attracted unwanted attention.

"But…" His voice, still cold, seemed to lighten. His eyes, shining gold, searched over me. "I can't leave you here." He bent his knees and offered his hand. "Will you let me take you away?"

I nodded, but I realized I was shaking so much already that it was probably hard to tell. "Yes," I said. The word barely managed to escape over my chattering teeth and trembling lips.

I touched his hand. He gripped mine securely, but not roughly.

I tried to stand, but I had no strength in my legs. I pushed up with my free hand, the rough ground grinding against my palm. Nothing worked.

"May I carry you?" Edward asked.

"Yes," I said.

Like a knight out of a fairytale, he scooped me into his arms and walked away, moving like I was weightless. Then again, if he moved a car away with so little ease, maybe I was weightless to him.

He carried me out of the alley. We were around the corner when I heard a scream come from behind us. Someone had discovered the gory remains. My stomach churned wildly as the image of it whipped against my mind.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head into the crook of her neck. I hugged my arm around him tightly. Part of me was terrified knowing he'd torn apart three men like it was nothing, like he'd made a salad and then casually walked away. A greater part of me was so thankful to be alive, and I knew I owed that entirely to him. That was twice now that he'd saved me.

I lost track of reality and time. One moment he was carrying me through the shadowy parts of the city. The next moment, I was in his car, and he was driving. I bolted forward only to be tugged back by the seatbelt. I had no memory of putting it on. Maybe Edward had done it. After all, my legs were still shaking and useless, so it was doubtless that he'd put me into the car in the first place.

"What happened?" I asked. My throat felt slashed. My voice was hazy, muted, like I'd been asleep.

Edward didn't look away from the road. "Do you really want to know?"

I blinked. I caught a splash of burgundy-red on the rim of his sleeve. "No," I decided.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

I checked over myself. My head was sore, but I'd done that to myself. "No."

I glanced out the window, just for something to distract me. Open road. We weren't in the city anymore. My eyelids drooped closed.

I bolted forward again. "Jessica." I shoved my hand into my pocket. I took out my cell. 3 missed texts. 2 missed calls. "Damn it."

I ran a hand through my hair. I went through the texts. The first two were from Jess, the last from Angie—who sounded worried. I started a reply, but then realized I had nothing to say.

"Where are we?" I asked. I didn't give Edward time to respond. "Take me back. I have to go to Angie. And Jess. I was meeting them."

I looked at the time. I was an hour late. I was surprised I didn't have more missed texts.

"You're in no state to—"

"I need to let them know I'm alright!" I interrupted.

Edward met my eyes. He looked at me for a long time. I forgot for a minute that he was driving and shouldn't be holding my gaze for so long.

"_Are_ you alright?" he asked.

My eyes dropped to my shaking hands. The answer was obvious. "I need them to think that."

He wanted to argue, his expression was a resisting a scowl. His lungs emptied out, stifling whatever argument he'd thought up. He finally turned his eyes back on the road.

The wheels screeched, the car spun, and our direction had switched. My head took a second too long to realize what had happened. Edward was driving me back to Port Angeles. I wondered how far away we were.

"Thank you."

Edward's hands tightened around the steering wheel, creaking as the leather as strained. "You'll tell them you lost track of the time. Your phone went dead. You ran into me and we started talking."

"Okay." I liked that he had a plan for something to say. I didn't even have enough energy to think up the start of an excuse. He'd even thought up a reason for not answering my phone.

"You're not leaving with them," he insisted. "If they ask, you're staying with me." His eyes turned to meet mine again. His eyes were unrelenting gold, solid and cold. He wasn't accepting any excuses.

"Okay." I glued my eyes one my phone. I switched the phone to airplane mode, just to make sure that when I told my friends that the phone was dead it wouldn't start buzzing or ringing. That would be a sure give away.

Edward combed his fingers through my hair. My body stiffened and I pushed against the car door, staying as far away as possible. Sure, he'd just saved my life, but that was too forward too soon.

"Your appearance was a dead giveaway," he explained.

The use of the word dead made my stomach jump. I nodded and closed my eyes. I'd never felt so carsick in my life. The movement was so unsettling. I wanted everything to be still, and silent.

I riffled through my purse for my compact and lipstick. I did a few quick touch ups. My face was way too pale. I piled on the powder. It was better than nothing, but not quite enough.

"We're here," Edward said. He stepped out of the car.

I blinked and blindly looked out the windshield. I hadn't even told him where I was supposed to meet the girls.

Edward opened my door and offered his hand again. I took a deep, deep breath and then exhaled. I had to drag out all the acting skills within me.

I took his hand and unsteadily got to my feet. I wasn't shaking as much as before, but maybe I could pass off what was leftover as jitteriness. Everyone knew Edward was hunky, so maybe I could convince Jess that I was nervous and excited about having an encounter with Edward. Angie might pick up on something, but if I thoroughly convinced Jess, then maybe Jess would convince Angie.

Edward steered me out of the lot to the front door of the Burger Palace. Jess and Angie stood on the front steps. They both had their phones out. Angie pressed her phone to her ear just as she saw me. She dropped her phone.

"Bella," Jess called. She leaped down a few steps, her relief turning into uncertainty when she saw who was holding my hand.

Angie scooped up her phone and ran to Jess' side. Her eyebrows knitted together and her mouth scowled angrily.

"What happened to you, Bella?" Angie demanded. "We were so worried. We sent you messages and called."

"My phone died," I spat out. It was an automatic response. It didn't sound real to any of us.

Edward squeezed my hand. It was a hint that I had to try harder.

I rolled my eyes and grinned. "I should have charged it before I left, but I didn't think we'd be out so late."

"You said you'd meet us in fifteen minutes," Angie continued. "It's been an hour. I thought something bad had happened. I had the worst feeling, like maybe…" She inhaled sharply and shook her head. "Never mind. You're fine. You are fine, right?"

"Fine," I agreed. "My phone died and then I bumped into Edward. I was on my way out of the library as he was on his way in."

"What a coincidence," Jess cheered, her elbow not-so-subtly grazing Angie's side.

"We started talking and then I lost track of the time," I said, successfully pulling off the sound of a senseless ramble without my voice shaking once. "I asked him for the time and when he said it had been an hour, I freaked and came straight over."

"I'm sorry to have kept her," Edward said. He flashed them a smile so bright they blinked, now blinded and speechless.

There was a moment of silence. Jess, Angie, and I exchanged glances. Jess had clear intentions. She wanted me to explain why Edward was holding my hand—and the reason being that my legs would collapse wasn't an answer I could give. Angie was started to question the proximity between Edward and I. After giving her the impression Edward wasn't someone I wanted to be near, it was obvious how many warnings signals were buzzing in her head.

"We already ate," Jess spoke suddenly. She gargled a laugh and grinned. "Sorry."

"We ordered because we thought you'd arrive in a minute," Angie said unapologetically, and then shrugged. She wasn't buying the story, and now she thought I'd been rude to make her worry. "Sorry."

"Bella, I'm sure you're hungry," Jess said, her eyebrow raised in an attempt to hint what my answer should be.

"A little," I said, mostly to please Jess. Now that she mentioned it though, my body was so weak. I wondered if my stomach would settle long enough to let me feed it.

"Since you two already ate, I don't mind taking Bella out to dinner," Edward offered, gallantly grinning, becoming a knight once again. "If you have other things to do…?"

Jess nodded violently. "Absolutely."

"I don't mind driving Bella back to Forks," Edward said.

"Perfect." Jess bit her bottom lip to stop herself from squealing. "You kids have fun. Angie and I will head back."

"Okay," I said with a light nod.

Jess looped her hand around Angie's arm and scooted both of them out of the way. She was strongly encouraging my being with Edward. I wondered if it was because, in her mind, giving me to Edward fully secured her being with Mike.

"Good evening, Bella," she said. "I'll talk to you first thing tomorrow." She winked.

With effort, I lifted my lips and nodded. "First thing."

Edward squeezed my hand again and walked up the first steps of the Burger Palace. He watched Jess and Angie depart.

"They're gone," he reported. His head bowed closer to my face. "If this place doesn't suit your taste, we can go elsewhere."

I blinked. Did that mean he had every intention of taking me out to dinner? Somehow, I hadn't seen that coming.

I waded around him to look at the front doors. Right now, nothing was to my taste. I felt like I might need something though, maybe sugar—although salty French fries did give me a spark of hope.

"This place is fine."

He seemed like he wanted to disagree. But he took me inside anyway.

Edward led me to one of the plastic booths in the furthest corner. He sat me down and asked what I wanted. I tried to object to him getting me anything, but he insisted. I demanded fries. That was the only thing on my mind.

He told me to wait and then went to the counter. I watched him speak to the petite doe-eyed Australian girl behind he counter with a burger hat on her head. That had to be embarrassing for her.

I felt my eyelids droop again, but I forced myself to stay awake. At least I'd stopped shaking.

When Edward came back with fries, I ignored my manners and began shoving fries in. In the back of my mind, I was grateful he hadn't brought a packet of ketchup. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle so much red liquid so soon after.

The salt made me thirsty quickly. I went to stand, but Edward's hand was on my shoulder, holding me down, before I could even start to stand.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Well, salty French fries, I had," I said, the stress of being held down turning me into Yoda. "A drink. I was going to get a drink."

"What would you prefer?" His expression was hardened. He wouldn't let me move.

"Ah, coke, I guess," I said, blushing. I didn't like being catered too, but I couldn't refuse when…well, for two reasons. He'd saved my life, so I trusted him a little. He also had super strength and speed, so I absolutely _could not_ refuse him anything. It was better to let him be my manservant if that's what amused him.

"Coming right up." He didn't smile, but there was a lighter tone to his voice. He seemed to like giving me stuff.

He came back a few moment's later with two cokes. He loosened the bottle cap before handing one to me. I found that hard to appreciate, being treated like a baby—but then again, I knew that it was definite that I didn't have the strength to open it in that moment. I was still feeling weak.

I chugged back half the bottle in one gulp. I didn't feel the need to be embarrassed by my un-girlish ways. I'd been almost killed and then witnessed him tear people apart. I was definitely seeing life through new, unabashed eyes.

"How are you feeling?" He asked like he already knew, like I might be about to drop dead.

I went through the list of honest answers, which was a little too close to his assumption that I could drop dead on the plastic seat. I felt like all my insides had been sucks out of me by a giant inhaling through a straw—or maybe a giant's vacuum cleaner. My skin pricked and tightened from goosebumps. The only good news was that my stomach was keeping the fries down—so far—and I was already tremendously grateful that—so far—the shaking hadn't returned.

"I'll be fine," I said, to encourage myself.

Edward's eyes narrowed. He definitely knew I was lying.

I hid my guilt, staring into my emptying coke bottle, guzzling back the sugary liquid. I popped it down onto the table, sad to have nothing left to distract me, only to catch Edward shove the second coke bottle at me. I shrugged an accepted. He was probably a strictly blood-drinker, so I didn't feel guilt for gaining a second glass of sugar rush.

I shivered. Damn.

"Cold?" he asked.

I glanced over my shoulder out the window. It was black out. Night. Maybe it was the evening hour that made me shiver rather than my remaining fear pushing across my skin. Maybe my guts were tougher than I thought. I'd always hoped I wasn't a crybaby damsel-in-need-of-constant-rescue type. Seeing as I wasn't sobbing uncontrollably, I awarded myself a fistful of gold stars, for toughing it out.

I zipped up my jacket and took a swig of the second coke. I could survive a little chill.

"Anything else?" he asked.

I lifted the empty fry cartoon. I shook it.

"Coming right up," my manservant said. He slid onto his feet and went to the front counter to cater to my needs once more.

My teeth bit into the bottle top. I couldn't help but grin. I'd never had something like this happen before. I was being catered to. _I was getting a vampire to fetch my French fries_. Stranger than fiction, better than a free Britney concert ticket.

"I doubt this is a healthy practice," Edward said, his tone warning. He placed the new carton in front of me. "I shouldn't be encouraging this."

I snorted. "Are you worried my blood will taste like salt?"

I thought I was being funny. I smiled to myself and lifted a fry to my mouth. His hand squeezed my wrist. The movement was so fast that I didn't register it at first, didn't see how rigid his body had become, how close his hand was to my face. The first thing I knew was that I'd said something stupid. Then I knew the grip on my wrist was far from flirty. It was a shackle.

"I meant hypothetically," I said, in a clear voice, loud enough that anyone in the Burger Palace could hear it, in case they'd been listening before—in case that was what concerned Edward.

His eyes shot a thousand flash-frozen needles at me. I burned and chilled my skin when I tried to move. I could barely blink. He was much scarier than the guys who'd tried to kill me. Much scarier, because I knew he could kill, and I knew his mood changed like a coin was being flipped in his brain—head's or tails, sweet or psychotic, my friend or my foe—for every word spoken.

Shakily, I lifted my free hand and covered his icy hand. He loosened his grip but didn't let go.

I met his eyes and leaned close to him. "We have things to talk about," I whispered, "but please say I'll be alright if I leave with you."

Instantly the needles flew out of my skin. Edward's expression changed too quickly for me to see what he was thinking, to know if he was sorry for acting coldly or merely the coin had been flipped again, so his approach changed. He was calm now. His eyes were blank, a veil hiding his feelings from me.

"You'll be alright," he said.

My eyes shuttered to a close and I exhaled. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath.

Edward extended his hand again. "We're going," he said. "Now."

I'd been hoping to rest safely with the thought of other humans being near by, but Edward was impatient. I'd accidentally cast my line and he'd been hooked. He wasn't letting my information-worm get away.

I tossed out the empty fry cartons and coke bottle, before Edward's arm herded me toward the door. He wasn't allowing me to dawdle, not even to have an extra second to gather my wits. I'd have to face him post-traumatic stress style.

Leaving the restaurant was a mistake, or so said my gut. My mind was so against it. The warm inside was safe, was being watched. Outside it was dark, and I'd be alone with him. Only one foot was out the door before I was shaking. I wore a mask of calm, pretended I couldn't feel it, but the mask was translucent to Edward. He knew he could frighten me.

Edward was a perfect gentleman outside his car. He opened the door for me, helped me in. He was mute, his eyes still veiled. But once he was in the driver's seat he locked the doors.

I watched out the window as we drove away. I hoped that my imminent death had been avoided rather than delayed. The alley fright wouldn't make me restless, but it was what Edward wanted to talk about that worried me—made me hope that he would let me live long enough to be restless.

I clicked my seatbelt in place. Edward drove at an alarming speed and I wasn't to make sure that if and when we broke the sound barrier, I wouldn't fly back through my seat.

"Before you start chewing me out—seriously no pun intended—I have some things to ask," I said.

Edward chuckled. It was tight, clipped, and false. "You're not in a position to request anything."

"I almost died, so humour me." I wanted to say that if he planned on killing me, I should have a last request granted—but I'd joked enough.

Edward didn't say anything. His eyes flickered from the windshield to my face. He'd listen. Maybe he wouldn't answer, but he'd at least hear me out.

"You were following me, weren't you?" I accused.

"Are you ungrateful?" he asked. He frowned, pulled his eyes away from me.

I pushed back into the headrest. "I am grateful you saved me," I admitted. "Maybe I should be concerned about you following me, but I've given up. There's nothing I can do to change it. What I want to know is how."

The corner of Edward's lip curled upward. "You want to know how."

"You found me." I swished the bottle in my hand, listening to the chinking of the liquid inside. "How close were you? Do you turn invisible? Something tells me you just have a sixth sense."

Edward's hands tightened around the wheel.

"I can see you're having difficult deciding what you can share with me," I acknowledged. I took a noisy sip of coke. "I'll make it easy. I know you're not human. You know I know you're not human. I know you have freaky superpowers, and you know I know. I don't know the details, but you know I'll find out eventually. It's better if I hear it from you. Right now."

The steering wheel creaked. It might snap in his hands.

"You said getting to know me might help both of us," I reminded him. "Maybe the reverse is true."

"It's not," he said quickly. His eyes flashed to meet mine, and then back to the road.

I leaned my head against the window. I could see nothing out the window. If Edward wanted to, he could kill me for being so nosey and dump me out the car. I wouldn't be found _at least_ until morning. Maybe forever. It would be nice to have some answers before that.

"If you're going to kill me anyway, why not tell me?"

The car slowed. Dramatically. I looked over at Edward, to see if he really was about to dump me out of the car. Instead, he looked more afraid than I was. He was petrified—a complete statue, his face a quieted scream.

His eyes pleaded with mine. He didn't want to kill me. He didn't want to _be_ that kind of person. It was obvious. Killing me was his greatest fear. He couldn't—just _couldn't bear it_—couldn't become a killer—and that was the reason I was alive now.

"Explain to me what you are," I begged. "Tell me. I have to know."

Still afraid, he tried to compose himself. He moved like an oak tree—just sudden twitches from a strong wind. He head faced forward. He eyes didn't leave me.

"You were following me, you knew I was coming to Port Angeles—how?"

I was determined to get answers. I knew now that this was the only way. Edward wasn't able to stay away from me, he told me that. We were trying to get along—he was trying not to kill me. He'd saved me twice. He wanted to know me. Instead of fighting it, I had to encourage it. It was insane, but the answer to my survival was obvious.

I wondered if this was how Shahrazad felt when she spoke to King Shahrayar. Every night she'd spend with him, in his bed, telling him unfinished stories for one thousand and one nights, entertaining him, making him want her alive. To survive, she had to flatter the man who swore every day that he would kill her the instant she ceased to enthrall him. If Edward's interest in me ever waned, ever became less than his need to hurt me, then I would die. I had to make him need me alive. To do that, I had to understand him.

"I…can read minds."

I blinked. I waited for him to tell me he was kidding.

"It's not like reading words on a page," he explained. "It's like hearing a person's inner voice."

"You can read—can _hear_ people's thoughts?" I stared at him, open-mouthed. I was torn between finding his power irresistibly cool and irrevocably creepy.

"Hear their thoughts, their minds—there's a difference between simply hearing what someone's thinking, exact words, their password, their locker combination…and then there's intentions." Edward smiled. "It's all in the sound of their inner voice. It's different from the voices you hear, the voices they speak with. Inner voices are the difference between the average, the psychotic, and…"—he shrugged—"whatever classifications people call themselves…"

"So, by the…tone"—it seemed like the wrong word, but Edward nodded against my better judgment—"…of someone's inner voice, you could know instantly if they're the next Manson or the next Mother Teresa?"

"I could only know if they have the potential," he corrected. "So I always listen very carefully."

"So what kind of tone do I have?" I wondered.

His chin dropped and his eyes swept down. "I wonder."

"You said you read minds."

"I do."

"But you don't know how my inner voice sounds."

"No."

"That doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't," he agreed. "And I have been trying to solve that riddle since the first day I saw you."

Outside, a car whizzed by. A flash of light blinded me. I blinked rapidly, my vision taking in the dim car interior again. Edward's eyes were tensed. This was another interesting development.

"You hear thoughts—all thoughts—but not mine?"

"Never."

I grinned. That could come in handy.

"How many times has this happened to you? How many other people can block their thoughts?" I questioned excitedly. This was another thing to add to my list of vampire weaknesses. "Is this a temporary thing?"

"I don't have those answers." He shook his head. "I've never found another being that could block me."

I was unique. Superb.

"Awesome."

His eyes shot to mine. He scowled. He wasn't enjoying being blocked.

I shrugged. I was too pleased to care that it bothered him. At least I had some protection against him, even if it was only that small amount.

"How did mind reading help you track me down?" I crossed my arms. "You can't read me, so are you stalking Jessica and Angie?"

He shrugged. "In a way. Only tonight."

I balked at him. Following me was one thing, but those were my friends! I was putting them in danger—just by being with them! So much for their privacy, their minds were invaded just so Edward could more easily stalk me. I wondered if there was a way to pass on my blocker to them. Was it something that can be taught?

"I wasn't listening closely," he said quietly, shyly. For once he seemed ashamed that he was sticking so close to me. "Reading minds is easy, not reading minds is hard. Once I let myself into someone's mind, it's hard to stop. Most days I hear everyone's thoughts at once."

I frowned. "You can't turn down the volume with the click of a button. I get it. I'm sure you get a lot of headaches."

"Only when I was…" He stopped suddenly. His face registered shock. His took a deep breath. He'd almost revealed some secret he wasn't ready to let me know.

Darn. Too bad he caught himself before he'd blurted it out. Maybe it was his kryptonite. Or maybe he was about to say only when he was a trapeze artist. Not helpful.

"I thought you'd be safe when you were in the library," he continued, pretending like he hadn't almost slipped. "I made myself leave."

"Why?"

His eyes widened. He looked at me, angry his voice raised and rough. "Why? You think I find this amusing? I despise what I am becoming. I would be a happier man if I could leave you. Unfortunately I can't."

This was bad. I was feeling pity. I was able to see how this hurt him. "So your better nature made you leave and then…?"

"And then I came back," he said, exhaling heavily, angrily. "I didn't get very far."

"So you were listening to Jessica's and Angie's thoughts to follow me." I tilted my head. "But I was separate from them. How did you find me then?"

"Even if I haven't heard someone's thoughts before," he said, his head lifted, "I know what manner of being they are."

I could barely block the memory—the feeling, the smell, and the fear—and so I could understand. Edward had heard the tone of their voices—he knew what unsavory characters.

"I would've passed over them, I may not have noticed in time, but…" His eyes narrowed. "I saw your face, in his thoughts."

_The third man stuck a hand in his other pocket and pulled out a small, white board. He turned it around. It was a photograph. "Look at her face. It's not her."_

I shivered. Yes. He'd definitely taken a good long look at my face.

"The things they were thinking." Edward's teeth were clenched. The wheel creaked inside his hands.

"They were thinking of killing me." I hugged myself tightly. Remembering made me wonder if I might not be as tough as I'd hoped. "I know."

"They weren't going to simply kill you, Bella," he said, his voice a growl, an aggravated animal. "There are people in this world that can barely be called human, even if that's what they are. Those men—"

"Stop, stop it," I interrupted, my voice a screech. "I don't want to know."

"I'm sorry."

I pressed my forehead against the window. I wished there was something to see out there, to block the images from my mind. The questions that filled my mind—I wanted to know what those men had meant to do with me, but I knew that I wouldn't take it well. It was better to pretend I hadn't considered what worse things would come before death.

"You may find this difficult to believe—consider my track record with you—but I don't kill," he said, his voice desperate, needing me to understand him, accept him. "I've always restrained myself—but…"—he inhaled shakily, his voice gravelly, tense—"I heard them thinking that about _you_ and I couldn't think anymore. I had to kill them."

I closed my eyes. The words he spoke were a terrible thing. His need to kill them made me feel safe. It was truly terrible.

"So you read minds. What else?"

Edward laughed. It was a hollow, lifeless life. "What else? I'm not terrifying you enough just yet?"

"You're quick, you're strong, you read minds," I listed. "I may be terrified, but I'm not going to stop asking questions."

"You would if you knew the answers," he warned.

"Of course," I agreed. "Why would anyone ask questions to which they already know the answers to? Unless the answers change over time—like the standard 'what's up' or 'how are you today', because if we're being honest I have to confess I ask those questions a lot."

"I've had enough of questions," he said tiredly. He rubbed his temple.

"I haven't."

"No more."

"Yes more."

Edward's head snapped in my direction, his nostrils flared. "Bella."

"I am freaking—really, really freaking out—and knowing you read minds and that I can someone block you makes me wonder what else is important," I rambled, waving my hands in the air, ready to explode. "What else matters about this weirdness between us! There's something going on here that is beyond anything I know."

Edward closed his eyes. "Later."

"Later?" I slammed my fist on the dash. "You're the one who freaked out when I mentioned salty blood! I think this means we talk right now—and talk about all of it!"

His eyes opened. "Thank you for reminding me."

I blinked. Uh-oh. Bad move, Bella.

"There are questions I have to ask you." He leaned across the car, ignoring the road, one hand on the wheel. "I think it's my turn."

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: So, what did ya think? Cool? Not cool? Too gory? Not gory enough? lol I wrote this around the Halloween weekend, so it's a little spookier than I originally intended. NEXT CHAPTER, we get into the big vampire confession! Whooo! Peace out.<p> 


	10. Chapter 9: Theory

_9. THEORY_

"CAN I ASK JUST ONE MORE?"

I was pushing my luck. Definitely.

"One," he agreed.

Good. I grinned. "What are your other superpowers?"

His head snapped again to look at me. He stared at me, blinking every other minute. He looked at me for a long time. I'd stumped him. That wasn't my intention.

I refused to break our staring contest. Even when I began to worry over how he hadn't made us crash yet…I didn't look away. (Plus it was a good clue that driving without crashing was one of his superpowers.)

"I'm not a—"

"I know you're not a superhero, Edward," I moaned, rolling my eyes. I crossed my arms and faced forward. I blinked a few times. My eyes were dry and tired. He'd won the contest.

I heard him sigh.

I really hoped he'd look at the road soon.

"I meant what other special skills do you have," I clarified. "Since you're a…" I bit my lip. How was I supposed to say it out loud? It sounded insane, even though it was true.

"Since I am a…?" He was irritated. Maybe it was because he couldn't read my mind to finish the sentence.

Edward's eyebrows knitted together, his mouth turned down. The muscles in his jaw were tight. How he managed to not crash was a miraculous mystery. With that much frustration on his face, I was surprised I didn't see him throw his hands in the air and hear Carrie Underwood appear in the backseat singing 'Jesus Take the Wheel'.

"Okay." This was tricky. I circled my hair behind my ears, drawing it over my left shoulder. "We can both agree that both of us know you're not a normal being—not human—right?"

"Yes." His lips flattened into a thin line. His eyes were covered in shadow.

"Ever since we met I've had a feeling…"

I held my breath and listened, waiting.

He wasn't breathing. No sound, no movement.

When I couldn't bear to be still anymore, I took a slow breath, air burning my lungs. Nervously, I played with my hair. I pulled it forward to hide my face, then pulled it behind my ears again. I wanted to face him confidently, but I had no confidence. I didn't know how to fake it when he seemed so good at watching me. I wondered if he was like Superman—not the red cape and alien hero bit. Could he see through me, x-ray my lungs and look through my chest to study the hurried beating of my heart? It felt like he could. It was a feeling that heated the air—or maybe my body had turned so cold it only felt like it burned me.

Edward might have noticed my nervousness, because he took his eyes off me. It seemed difficult for him to do. Somehow he had more things to look out for, more chances of finding an unexpected danger when he was looking at me—compared to the road.

If a deer wandered out into the road, I imagined Edward would either levitate the car over the animal or hit it without even noticing, without being phased. Like the world was separated from him, unimportant, and irrelevant—and he could handle whatever meaningless events occurred instinctively. But if I blinked or took a breath, he was unprepared.

"You could probably call it instinct," I continued, my nervousness showing in my higher pitch. "Maybe it's part of what blocks your mind reading. But I figured out very quickly that you were…dangerous." I shrugged. "I couldn't figure out why, but then I…I went to La Push beach and heard a little story."

"A story," Edward whispered. He said it like a curse, like he was knowingly swallowing poison.

"A Quileute story," I said, my voice hushing on its own. I'd swallowed the poison with him.

I was afraid of Edward's reaction. He was so still. I was watching for that coin to flip inside his head—any second he could switch. After I told him, which Edward would I be talking to—Edward who wanted me alive or Edward who wanted blood?

"It's about the Cold Ones." Waiting for him to react was making goosebumps appear on my skin again. "They're sort of like…they're…"—I shook my head—"Edward, I think _you're_…"

I couldn't force myself to say the word. I pressed my lips together and lifted my head.

Edward was furious. He was trying to hide it, trying to pretend that he was calm and he had no clue what I was trying to imply. His eyes were wild, which meant he was very close to turning into the Edward that hated me.

Before I could make a decision about how to stop him from becoming the Edward I feared, he reached into the back and grabbed a book. It was the book I'd gotten at the library. The gold lettering of the title taunted me. _Vampyres_.

Ah. He knew exactly what I was implying.

I cleared my throat, fighting against the terror that tried to choke me. "I thought I dropped it when…they…"

"I couldn't leave it at the crime scene," Edward said matter-of-factly.

I nodded and cleared my throat again. I could see his point. No need to connect him or me to the murders.

He threw the book at my lap. My hands grabbed at it automatically, stopping it from falling.

"So what is your theory, Bella?" he shouted. "What am I?"

My fingers curled tightly around the thick, brown leather book. "Edward?"

"What?" His voice shook the car.

Tears pricked my eyes. Edward's eyes narrowed, he turned away, ashamed at himself. He bowed his head and closed his eyes for a minute.

I held the book closer, feeling my fingertips across the title, across that one word. Then, turning the book over, I looked at him and forced myself to ask. "Are you a vampire?"

His eyes opened, slowly, but he didn't lift his head.

"Are you?"

The car picked up speed. Edward raised his head. "Yes."

Relief flooded through me. He'd confessed. And he hadn't killed me for knowing. This wasn't as tricky as I'd thought.

"So, how old are you?" I asked, unable to hide my excitement. "A hundred? A thousand?"

"Seventeen," he said.

I hunched my shoulders and scowled. "Seventeen?" Was he a baby vampire? I crossed my arms around the book. "How long have you been seventeen?"

He glanced at me and smirked. "A while."

I faced the window in an attempt to hide my smirk, but then I realized the window reflected my face. I could see Edward's reflection too. He was still watching me.

"You have a reflection," I noted. "You come out during the day."

"Those are myths," he said, rolling his eyes. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"I'm guessing garlic and running water are out too," I said with a laugh. "How about entering someone's home? Do you have to be invited in?"

He shook his head. "Most of what you've heard is fiction. I have only one weakness."

I blinked. His reflection was still watching me. If he said I was his one weakness, I was going to ****ing murder him. It was just too cliché. Besides, if Jacob's story had been accurate, there were actually two weaknesses—assuming werewolves existed… Which was a bit of a stretch, but what did I know?

"Are there a lot of vampires?" I asked. "Your family—are they…?" I had to admit I had a sneaking suspicion Alice knew something.

He dodged the question. "You're not asking the right questions."

"I'm asking the questions that matter!" I dropped the book. It fell to the floor before I could grab it. Whatever. Edward had more answers than any old book.

"How about asking what I want with you? Or how I so easily killed those men?" He was seething. In a minute he'd be foaming at the mouth, rapid and violent. Maybe he'd breathe fire. I was surprised his face hadn't reddened with anger—or maybe that was a side effect of being a vampire.

"I'm a _vampire_, Bella. I've killed more than those three men in all the time I have walked this earth."

The car screeched to a halt, my seatbelt pressing me against the seat. Edward pulled over to the side of the road. I could see lights from the town not to far ahead. Of all the places he could have chosen to murder me, he'd waited until Forks was in sight, when I'd felt a false sense of security.

Edward grabbed my arm, twisting me, pulling me closer. He leaned closer. His eyes were bright flaming rings.

"It doesn't matter," I whispered.

His eyes widened. "It _doesn't matter_? It doesn't matter that I'm a _killer_? That I want your blood? That I've imagined killing you a_ thousand_ times?"

Edward's hand began to shake. It occurred to me then that no one was more afraid of me dying than Edward. His anger wasn't the preparation for lashing out and murdering me—it was how he showed his shame. He couldn't save me from the one threat that really mattered.

Edward hid his face. He shoved me away. Without knowing why, I reached for him, but he shrunk away from me.

"You don't want to hurt me, Edward," I said, wanting to console him.

Edward raised his head but wouldn't look at me. He knew my words were only half true. As evolved as any being was, there were basic needs, there were drives that couldn't be resisted. We both knew that.

"I don't want to hurt you," he agreed. He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. "My family and I, we're vampires. But we don't drink human blood."

"Pardon?" I slumped back into my seat.

"We consider ourselves…vegetarians, because we only drink animal blood. Even tonight, I didn't touch their blood—not that I'd want to. Blood is flavoured by the human spirit." He opened his eyes. "Every human has their own scent. Blood tastes different depending on the person's spirit—their soul, their inner voice. If I drank their blood…"—he rolled his eyes to meet mine—"it can be likened to you eating a rotten banana peel."

My nose scrunched. "Gross."

He smiled, barely. It was a weak and vanished quickly.

"It's been a long time since I've hurt anyone—even longer since I killed a human," he murmured. He rolled his head to face the side window, hiding from me. "If you can consider those men as _human_."

I picked the book up from the floor. I dusted it off, although it was immaculately clean. Edward's car reminded me that I had my own to clean.

The engine stirred. I watched Edward twist the wheel. We were moving again.

"I think I can accept that you're trying to be good," I decided, "and that if you can help it, you're not going to hurt me. I know you drink animal blood now, so that makes me feel a little better. I don't think it answers the biggest question."

His eyebrow raised and he shot me a nervous glance.

"What now?" I asked, concentrating my eyes on the book's title again, all the problems it implied. "Trying and doing are two different things. Trying to keep me alive—well, so far it's worked, but until when?"

Edward didn't answer.

"I got that book to learn how to kill you," I confessed.

"Then we have ourselves a contest," he said, a shallow grin on his lips.

"Not really," I grumbled, my eyebrows knitted together. "You have quite the advantage. You know all my weaknesses. Being a human is the biggest. _You _have one weakness, and I don't even know it. I think you're chances of coming out alive are higher."

"I wonder about that."

I scanned over his expression, examined him from every angle, running every inch of his skin through my mind. His words had confused me. He'd made it clear he wanted my blood, that there was only one way to kill him, and he'd pushed a car away from me—and then killed three guys before I could take three steps. I could be killed any number of ways. I already knew two of them—he'd saved me from both.

I had a feeling there was something—something bigger than simply not wanting to kill me—that made him say such a thing. What advantage did I have against him?

Streetlights flashed by on either side. He was taking me home. I pulled out my cell. It was ten. I'd made it home—alive—at a decent hour? Cool.

"Just for the sake of easing my curious mind, do you sleep in a coffin?"

Edward chuckled. Apparently it was a ridiculous question.

"Never mind." I clasped my hands together and set them on my lap. "I know less than I thought I knew. Which means I know nothing. Except that you're a vegetarian vampire. There doesn't seem to be a way to tell a difference though—between a human diet and animal diet."

"You'd know the difference," he promised ominously.

"Is it really obvious?" I shrunk against the seat. Edward had already acted frightening—as a vampire who _avoided_ killing. I hoped I'd never meet someone worse than him.

"The eyes, for one," he informed. "A vampire's eyes will be red if they drink human blood. It takes many, _many_ years of drinking _only_ human blood to change that."

"Interesting." I leaned closer to him, inspecting his eyes. Maybe I was wrong, but the gold was darker than before, browner.

Edward seemed to not notice me there—for a minute. Then he looked uncomfortable. He refused to look at me; he stared off to the left, trying to frown.

"Does that have anything to do with how your irises change colour?" I questioned, narrowing my eyes.

"It's a warning to my prey," he said. "The darker, the hungrier. Lighter means safer." He flashed me a smile. "You're safe today."

I jumped. I hadn't expected that answer. Interesting that he had a built-in hunger meter. I could see that coming in handy. For me, not for him, because eye colour changing depending on his hunger level was probably difficult to explain.

The car halted. I looked out the window.

Home. I was home. I yanked the door handle, eager to escape. I'd made it! I was alive! And I think I was less afraid of Edward now. Somehow, confirming that he was a vampire made everything easier to understand. Knowing that Edward _wasn't_ human was an explanation that made me _accept_ that he acted so strangely, that he had killer urges. He was an animal, just like anyone, just like me.

I popped open the door. I could have jumped out of the car, run up to the front door, and thrown my arms around Dad. He would've known something was up then, and I didn't want to worry him—because there was nothing he could do about it—so it was a good thing I hesitated in the car.

"Bella?"

I turned and he was leaning toward me. His face was inches from mine.

There were so many times I'd feared him that I'd begun to forget how beautiful he was. I wondered if it was a vampire thing, if they were all beautiful. Demons in the bodies of angels. Except in his eyes, I couldn't see the hunger now. His hand traced my cheek. His golden eyes poured over my face, breathing me in—eating me up in a way I hadn't thought of. My heart swelled, growing until it pressed against my lungs. My lungs quivered, shrinking.

Edward closed his eyes. He was so close; I could feel the cold from his skin. I shivered, even though I was burning up. My face flushed. My head was spinning. I knew these symptoms. I knew what he was doing to me. Worse than knowing, I couldn't stop the feeling from growing.

What was this tragic attraction to someone who was a threat to my life? The only rational explanation was because he'd saved my life. Maybe I'd been poisoned by hero worship.

Whatever came of that terrible, burning feeling, I knew that I would give anything—even my blood—to have Edward kiss me then.

Instead, he opened his eyes. His bitter smile and a low, aggravated voice only made the feeling worse. He spoke so desperately.

"Why did it have to be you?" he murmured. He drew away, sitting with his hands on the wheel again, in the blink of an eye.

I was paralyzed. He was a spider and I the fly. I was trapped. If he wanted to, he could eat me up without me batting an eyelash.

"I hope you won't ignore me tomorrow," he said. His voice was bright, unclouded by the desperate emotion of a moment ago.

"Tomorrow?" I blinked. I couldn't feel my body, only my swollen, racing heart. "Tomorrow. Okay."

I moved like a puppet, my strings tugging at my limbs were controlled by some consciousness in the back of my mind. I stepped onto the curb unsteadily. I reached into the car, grabbing my purse and book, stumbling and forgetting how to use my limbs. I didn't look at him. It was hard enough knowing my face was cherry red. I shut the door with a hard thunk and then started to walk away, holding my head high.

"Bella?" Edward called.

I stopped but didn't turn around.

"Good night."

I sighed. I tried to turn my head, but stopped myself. I couldn't face him. I hurried up the driveway to the front door. I fumbled getting my keys out of my purse. I shoved myself through the door and shut it behind me. I still couldn't look back. My heart was racing still, but at least the swelling was down.

"Bella?"

I jumped. It was only Dad, but the last use of the name had unsettled me.

"Yeah. Hi."

Dad stood at the top of the stairs. "Just checking. Make sure you lock the door again."

"Y-yes." I spun immediately and locked the door. No need to invite trouble in.

"Did you and your friends have fun?" he asked. He grinned. He was looking a little sleepy. He'd probably been woken up from a snooze.

"Fun. Yes." I said cheerfully with a small fist-pump. I dropped my hand. "But now that you mention it, I left my shopping bag in Jess' car."

"Just call her," he said gruffly. He straightened and turned to go back into his room.

"It's a little late, and I have school tomorrow."

Dad laughed sleepily. "You just saw her a minute ago. I don't think calling her now will do any harm. But better wait a minute for her to get home. She shouldn't answer her phone while driving."

"Of course."

Dad stared at me, questioning my obvious distress. He was trying to decide if I was acting abnormal, or if it was something about being a teenage girl that he could never hope to, or want to, comprehend.

"Anything we need to talk about?" he asked uncertainly. He put a hand on the banister.

"Absolutely not. I'm fine." I bobbed my head. "I'm just on a sugar high. I had two cokes. Too much for me apparently."

His eyes narrowed and his jaw dropped. "Ah, okay." He was now convinced—that his daughter was an oddball.

We stood, staring at each other, listening to the sounds of the house. The refrigerator kicked on in the kitchen. There was some wind outside. It howled against the walls. Then the phone rang.

"I'll get it," I announced in a shrill voice. "Goodnight, Dad!"

I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, I know I said I'd talk to you tomorrow—but I couldn't wait!" Jessica. She was giddy. She might be about to squeal. "And I wanted to make sure you knew I still had your cute skirt as a hostage. So give me the gory details or else."

My stomach tossed and my throat tightened. I really didn't want to think of the _gory_ details. I didn't have much time to think up an interesting cover story.

"It's…not an easy thing to explain."

I heard her giggle through the receiver. "Now I really have to hear this."

"I wasn't planning to see him," I told her, "actually I was hoping to see him as little as possible."

"But then?" Jessica wasn't stupid. She was definitely a teenage girl in every sense—girly, boy crazy, a little naïve, and a little wild—but she wasn't stupid. The tone of her voice was serious. She knew I had changed, even before I fully knew it.

I hovered in the corner, gripping the phone tightly. "Jess, I want you to understand, yesterday I thought I hated him."

She sighed lightly. "It was only a matter of time, Bella."

I pulled the phone away from my ear for a second. Her certainty was frustrating. She had no idea what I'd been through! A matter of time… Edward was a threat to my life, but she seemed to think my feelings were a ticking time bomb. My jaw tightened. I resisted the urge to yell at her, tell her it was completely unnatural to have anything but hatred and fear for Edward.

I put the phone to my ear. "I don't understand."

"Edward wanted you from the first second he saw you," Jessica explained. She sounded both jealous and worried. They way she said _wanted_, it made me wonder if maybe she did understand the exact way Edward had wanted me when he met me.

"When someone looks at you like how he looked at you…" Jessica whistled. "Girl, I'm impressed you lasted this long."

I closed my eyes. "Yeah. Me too."

"So." She giggled again, back to the oblivious Jessica I preferred. "What does this mean? Are you two going to date? Was this a one time fling?"

I leaned my head against the wall. "Good question. I have no idea where this is headed."

"This sounds serious. Hm." Jessica clucked her tongue once. "You know, for someone who thought she hated Edward, you seem to be awfully invested so quickly."

I laughed. I was invested because my life was at stake. Still…she had a point, even if she didn't have all the information, the diagnosis sounded scarily right to me. Edward had only shown _that_ kind of affection in front of me once, and yet…that one time was enough. I must be insane.

"I don't know, Jess." I stood and peeked around the corner at the stairs. Dad wasn't there. At least he wasn't listening.

"We can talk tomorrow."

I exhaled. Relief. I was glad Jess was letting me go for now.

"Okay," I said. "Talk to your tomorrow, Jess."

"Bye."

I heard a click. I put the phone back on the hook. I stared blankly for a while. My head was miraculously empty.

I was so uncertain of so many things. I didn't know where to go.

I tried to figure out what I knew. I could only act on that.

About three things I was absolutely certain. The first was that Edward was a blood-sucking, yet _vegetarian_, vampire. The second was that Edward wanted my blood—and his instincts, no matter how hard he fought against them, would always lead him to hurt me. Third, and this was what frightened me the most…by some weird trick of fate or sick game played by some godly being, Edward was in love with me.

And I…maybe…

Well, about that, I wasn't so certain.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yay! Fan Fic . net fixed itself! Finally! Okay, so now I can put the line in. Teehee. I am pleased. Anywho, enjoy the chapter. Hopefully you liked it. If not, feel free to say what parts of it threw you off! I am actually a writing student, so I'm always looking for ways to improve - so one day my novels will be the awesomest there ever was! (BTW, according to my spell-check, awesomest is a legit word. Who knew?)<p>

Peace out.


	11. Chapter 10: Interrogation

_10. INTERROGATIONS_

IT WAS VERY HARD, IN THE MORNING, TO ARGUE WITH THE PART OF ME THAT WAS SURE LAST NIGHT WAS A DREAM. It was even harder to decide what manner of dream it was. It was some sort of nightmare-dream hybrid.

When I looked out my window I saw nothing but grey. The world was coated in dirty grey. I opened my window and reached out and felt the pricks of wet. Cold, fog, light rain. It was a dreary day. Days like this tended to bring people down but today I felt on top of the world. There was Atlas, the world on his shoulders, and I'd jumped on top, a shining crown on my head, sticking my tongue down at him.

Dad was already gone. I was eating breakfast alone. I didn't mind. Kings don't need company to feel kingly, so being alone didn't do anything to dampen my mood. Even the dampness of the weather didn't dampen my mood.

I was making excellent timing. I'd woken ten minutes before my alarm. I had time to shower, blow-dry my hair, and took out my curling iron. I knew the weather wouldn't allow my hair to remain curled, so I opened my laptop and looked up creative hair-dos. I found a particularly easy one; it just involved a little twisting up and pinning. It looked like it would stay if I did it right, and therefore was low maintenance. It didn't take long, and I had plenty of pins left over…but I stuck them in anyway, just to be sure my hair wouldn't tumble out by noon. I thought about wearing my new skirt…but Jess was still holding it hostage. I put on jeans and white blouse. I stuck a faux flower in my twisty, curly bun. A quick look in the mirror and I saw a put-together, glowing grinning girl.

Despite the bad parts of the evening, I had to go with it was dream-like. Forget the nightmare-hybrid idea. There was no way I'd be feeling so good if there wasn't something great that had happened. And that greatness was that Edward was definitely trying to be my knight. He was a bodyguard; he was a scary bodyguard, but that was probably what made him so perfect for the job. If Edward tried to overpower his bloodlust as successfully as he had so far, maybe I could survive without any serious injuries. With the fullness of his secret revealed, there was no more mystery to worry over.

I began to worry about driving in the thick fog. It was pee soup—dyed grey. I wondered if just walking through it would soak me. I'd never driven in fog before.

And then my worry vanished—and the one thing that could both dampen my day and then dry me out all over again was parked on my driveway. My knight in a shinning Volvo.

I hesitated outside my door. I looked from my truck to his car. What did this mean?

Taking a deep, _deep_…deep breath (somewhat hoping I could pass out and give myself an excuse to go back inside), I decided no harm would come from speaking with him. I kept my chin up, composed my expression, trying to look unfazed and unconcerned. I was about to tap on his window, but the electricity was already tugging the glass down before I'd raised my hand.

I had to force my hand down. I adjusted my bag's strap, stepped back and bent my head to look at him. "Edward."

"I thought I'd offer you a ride." He grinned. It was a taunt, telling me he wasn't giving me an option. "Would you care to join me?"

I looked back at my front door. Could I fake being sick? I wasn't sure if I was ready to be locked inside a close space with him—again—so soon. Out of my nervousness, I tried to tuck my hair behind my ear, but it was already pinned back. This wasn't a good sign. I was already so nervous that I couldn't remember what I'd done to my hair or what I was wearing.

I quickly scanned over myself. For a moment I thought I was dreaming, and maybe I'd forgotten to put on clothes. Thank God that wasn't the case. I was dressed at my best and his fearsome stare wouldn't make me feel any less.

"Why the hell not," I mumbled. I crossed around the front of the Volvo. The door was open already. I slid onto the seat and restrained myself from slamming the door shut.

"You slept well, I trust," he said.

"Well, I was almost murdered by those men, so I can't say I slept _well_," I reminded him. I pulled the seatbelt over my shoulder and listened for the click. The door lock clicked at the same time as the seatbelt. I was thoroughly locked in. "But there was definitely sleep involved and I feel good today."

"You look it too," he said.

I blinked. "Huh?"

"You look beautiful," he said. His eyes, dark amber, were gentler.

I had to look away. His face was too much. My heart was speeding. "Thanks."

What was with me? I'd always been too quick to crush on guys. I knew the feeling well, but this was the quickest of all. If levels of affection were like a ladder, true love was at the top and _like_, or neutral, was at the bottom. Depending on the person, a crush or a friend was probably the second or third step. The fourth was the kind of crush that made me look away every time I saw the person. The fifth step was the kind of crush I'd only had once before—when I wanted that person to look at me, when I spoke more often, louder, thinking extra hard about what I could say that would sound smarter, all so that person would smile at me. _That_ was about as far as I'd gotten before. That was the deepest connection I'd had, even dating Tyler…it wasn't that deep; it was just an excuse to run from Edward. But with Edward…I was standing on the sixth step.

"You're very strong," he said, "or a very good actress."

I knew exactly what he was referring to, but I feigned ignorance. "What?"

His lips stayed together, but a smile grew, hidden as he turned his head, pretending he needed to look around to back out.

He was wearing a black jacket and a dark-green buttoned shirt. The green made me notice the red in his hair. Dark brown with red where the sun touched, white-grey skin, shadowed amber eyes, and strong jaw-line—no wonder I was on the sixth step. Even without saving my life twice, just looking at him shredded all the negative parts of him.

It was getting harder to remember he was dangerous. I pinched my arm when he wasn't looking, not to make sure I was awake, but to keep myself from being hypnotized. It was becoming clear that vampires were designed to be alluring, to capture their prey, like how the infamous Venus flytrap was designed perfectly to call out to flies. Rosalie was gorgeous, Edward was gorgeous, and every one of his family—well, I hadn't seen Carlisle, but if the pattern continued I had no doubt he'd look the same as them. So I had to work extra hard not to get brainwashed by Edward's appearance. He was still a hungry, hungry hippo underneath that cunning smile.

"Moving on from the undesirable topic of my almost murder," I said, dropping my bag at my feet. "Why is it you're offering your limo service to me?"

His teeth showed and he chuckled. Real laughter was unmistakable, and this was definitely real. He was freakishly lighter today. He'd gone from Captain Hook to Peter Pan overnight. He'd mirrored my good mood.

"Your family got tired of your poor driving habits and abandoned you? Am I the replacement passenger?" I had to fight my own smile. Smiles were infectious, and his was even worse. My cheeks were set aflame.

"I _chose_ to drive you," he answered, still chuckling, "I wasn't abandoned. Rosalie drove them today."

"Oh." I think I'd been trying to be funny, but now I felt like I'd failed, even though he'd laughed. I'd failed because I was trying to make myself laugh at him, rather than have him laugh at me. "So you wanted to talk to me."

He was driving normally today, so he feigned a long look at the road before glancing at me. His was more serious now, laughter gone. It wasn't anger—no, definitely not, it wasn't even disappointment or a warning, it was just…light. His good mood was as infallible as mine. Maybe we were competing, to see who could out-happy the other. The first one to frown was the loser.

"Yes," he agreed. "Is that forbidden?"

I was speechless. I drew back, trying to find the words. I untwisted my neck, staring out the front. The school was in sight.

"No," I decided. "It's not _forbidden_, just unexpected."

A smirk spread his lips, reaching his eyes. I watched in complete surprise. What had happened to my vampire? Today, he had a halo. He was glowing.

"It's _unexpected_ that I'd want to talk to you?" Edward didn't sound surprised, only teasing, like he knew exactly why it was unexpected, but had the perfect plan to change it. "I think after what we've been through, speaking to each other is expected."

I bit my lip, ignoring the pinch of my teeth against skin. My lungs were quivering with each breath. Was this how it would be from now on? I couldn't believe it would last.

His halo was burning holes in my cornea. I had to look away, _yet again_. The inhuman parts of him were…unbearable. It was almost like he was sparkling. All the brightness was giving me a headache.

Edward parked next to a car that resembled a curvaceous blood-red apple more than a vehicle. It was succulent, so clean you could lick it and it would shine even more. It was the kind of car that made even the most calm, responsible people into racecar drivers—the kind of people that pull up to a red light and rev their engines a few times to challenge to car next to them to a street race. It was everything my beaten and scratched truck wasn't.

As we got out of the car, I barely noticed Edward open the door for me, or how he started toward the school doors. I lingered behind. My eyes were glued. Most of the other students that passed by were the same. It was hard not to give this red convertible a second glance.

"This is Rosalie's," I realized. I looked over my shoulder to find Edward, only to stop halfway, suddenly catching him beside me.

He was smug. He'd caught me ogling just like every other average person who'd never had half the wealth he had. I clamped my jaw shut and felt ashamed that I'd been so impressed. Still, I could almost hear the engine in my mind, almost picture myself racing around corners, speeding off jumps…maybe soaring over three elephants and a moat…it was hard to remind myself that while it was a nice car, it was _not_ a racecar or a car built for stunts. It just looked powerful, sleek, and sexy.

"We try to be inconspicuous," he said.

I snorted. I regretted it. Edward made a strange face, like he couldn't believe I'd made such an un-feminine sound.

"Sorry, but seriously, Edward." I lifted my palm and traced around the convertible. "If you're trying to become one with the crowd, this is not it. Anymore obvious and you'd be driving the Batmobile."

He blinked. His expression was flat.

"Batmobile," I repeated. I lowered my voice and inclined my head. "Because bats. Vampire bats."

"No, I got it," he said. He blinked. His expression was blank. "I was trying to be inconspicuous."

Blushing, I stepped back. I'd half expected him to be furious for saying something so obviously related to his secret. No one was paying attention to me with _that_ red beauty around, so I was fine. I was safe because Edward's eyes were warm. He was laughing at me.

"Bella!"

I spun when I heard my name. Jess. She had my shopping bag with her, standing with one foot propping the door open. I started forward instinctively, and then paused. Edward. He'd driven me. We were walking into school together. Jess was going to demand my reasons for the vast advancement in the relationship.

I pressed my hand into the glass of the door, letting Jess step inside. Her eyes were prying, curious, and she wasn't even trying to be inconspicuous. She was Rosalie's red car. I was certain even Edward could tell what she was…thinking…

Hm. Well, I was _more_ than certain. He definitely knew what she was thinking. I'd have to get used to that.

"Hey, Jess." I took the shopping bag from her outstretched fingers. "Thanks a lot."

"Hey," she said, shooting her eyes between Edward and I.

"Good morning, Jessica," he said. His voice was sweet, his eyes weren't. The brilliance that had existed within him when we were alone had faded a little. But the exterior warmth was enough to fool Jessica.

Setting a hand on her hip, the right corner of her glossy lips lifted. Her eyes looked him up and then down. "Good morning, Edward."

Jess backed up to let Edward and I enter. I cleared my throat and Jess took the hint. She touched my wrist and met my eyes, which shone with the promise of an interrogation.

"I've got something to do, so I'll talk to you in class, Bella." She waved sharply and walked away, looking back only once.

I wasn't sure what to say to Edward just yet, so I looked beyond him, setting my locker as my target. I looked back once, avoiding his face, to make sure he'd followed. He had.

Before I could spin to the right numbers, my locker door was already opened. I narrowed my eyes on Edward. He leaned against the locker next to mine, his expression full of child-like innocence. His eyes were telling of his true nature, as usual. He was devilishly pleased with himself.

I ignored the creepiness of him knowing my locker combination and shoved the shopping bag into the bottom of my locker. I grabbed my books for my first two classes.

I balanced the books in the crook of my arm and faced him. "You read her mind."

"Yes."

"So?" I scrunched my shoulders higher, hugging my books against my chest. "Tell me what to do. I don't want her asking any questions that I can't make up answers for—or worse, that don't have an alibi."

He swung my locker closed and closed the lock. "She is curious about why we've bonded so quickly."

I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes. "I knew it."

The bell would ring any second. My class wasn't too far a walk, so even if the hall flooded with slow-moving masses, I'd be fine.

"I'll make something up."

Edward lost our contest. The sharp downward slant of his eyebrows was nothing compared the sharpness in his eyes. He did not like my answer.

I shrugged. "What?"

Edward's skin brushed against my arm. I wished I'd been wearing long sleeves. Not that it made a difference. His hand was on my back, steering me away from the occupied hall, and I could feel a hint of cold even with the cloth between us.

Edward backed me into a corner. Literally. He'd led me away from the densely populated areas were, away from most of the lockers. The workshop area was in the double doors to my left. I could hear a faint shrill buzzing sound, a drill probably.

"Forget about making something up," Edward said sternly. I watched him swallow. Why was he so nervous?

"Okay…?" I wasn't sure what he wanted me to do. Tell Jess the truth? I wasn't insane enough to consider it.

"Tell her we're dating," he demanded.

"We're dating?" My voice and my grin dripped with sarcasm.

His eyes met mine with such seriousness that my own expression flat-lined. His was probably the expression Snape wore every time Harry Potter didn't get detention for his antics. It was like it was ludicrous to dispute that we were dating.

How had that happened?

"I don't intend to let you out of my sight for long," he said.

I gulped. "Yikes. So that translates to _dating_, I guess…?" Once again I was glad I didn't live in his head. It was crazy in there.

"It's easier."

I blinked. "Easier? Wait, you mean being near me all the time _helps_?"

"You could say it builds up my immunity," he explained with a shrug. "If I get used to the scent of your blood it makes it easier to resist."

I stepped into my toes and peeked over his shoulder. There was no one passing by that I could see, and I assumed Edward's constant and unstoppable travel into people's minds made it simple for him to tell when someone was coming.

"Relax, Bella," he assured me, his hand on my shoulder. "No one is listening. I'd know if they were."

I flattened my feet. It was hard not to shoot him a worried glance. He was touching me so familiarly. Then again, we were apparently _dating_ so…maybe that was something else I'd have to learn to accept. Edward had made it clear he wasn't going away.

A not so faint sound, the shrill bell, rang loud enough to cover the sounds of drilling. It made my hair stand on end. I was going to be late.

Edward mistook my reaction as a chill and drew his hand away. I wasn't complaining. It was weird for me to be touched. I wasn't sure my brain could process the feeling, the meaning. Did I hate it? No. Did I like it? No. It was a feeling in between hate and like. It was uncomfortable. Was that because of my natural human instincts, to be wary of a touchy-feely vampire? Maybe.

"I should let you go."

I froze. His words meant more than he knew. "Yeah. You should."

He stepped aside and gestured with his arm, telling me to pass him. "Until later."

I walked backward, watching him as I went. "Later when? Much later?"

He smirked and narrowed his eyes. He found me amusing.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, dumb question. I guess, lunch, I'll see you."

Edward nodded. I was free for now. Free to go to class. Yay. It was just what I always wanted. Heavy on the sarcasm.

Jess was tapping her fingernails impatiently on the desk when I walked in. I sat next to her and opened my mouth to explain, but…I was too late. She twisted her body away from me to face forward. The teacher started in on his lecture. Jess wasn't pleased with me for making her wait.

She'd probably fumed all class, because she was prodding at me again by the time the bell rung again. She was glued to my heels, my extra shadow, following me into the hallway.

"What happened?" she squealed. "You were so uncertain last night, and he's talking to you bright and early—and man, was he ever sticking close to you." She giggled. "I wish all my first dates went that well."

I rolled my eyes. Aside from the almost-murder, yeah, it went _well_. "I think it's because he doesn't date much. So he tries extra hard to make the effort."

"No kidding."

We waded through the crowd quietly for a second. Good for me, because it gave me an extra second to prepare myself.

"So, where is this headed?" she asked. "He's into you. Obviously. So are you going on another date soon…?"

I exhaled. "Yes. He…" He _ordered_ me to date him? "I guess we're officially dating. We're thinking the wedding will be in June, maybe late May."

Jessica whacked my arm lightly. "C'mon, Bella, be serious," she said.

I thought maybe I was. I was either Edward's prisoner or his love interest. Either way, he wasn't letting me go. My path was limited. I could see a bloody death or marriage. Maybe both. At the same time.

Yikes. Watching Tim Burton's _The Corpse Bride_ had been a bad idea. I was now identifying with it.

"But you _are_ dating?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Yes." Apparently.

She wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "I am so excited for you! A much better choice than Tyler!" Her mouth clamped shut, her eyes searching the faces around us. Her voice quieted. "No offense, of course. He was into you, but it was obvious it was a one way street."

"Unfortunately," I agreed solemnly. I felt guilty again. "I guess I wanted there to be something, he was nice but…"

"But _Edward_ is irresistible," she finished.

Hm. I'd never thought about it. Irresistible? There was definitely a pull. Of course usually that was Edward himself yanking me closer, but my feelings for him had bloomed overnight, for no rational reason. Irresistible was a good word to describe it, because I _had_ resisted, and now I was here.

I was here counting down the seconds until noon. The entire morning moved so slowly. I was watching sand sprinkle down in an hourglass. I wanted to shake all the clocks, force the hands to jump ahead. My least favourite thing in the world was waiting. Waiting for a bus, waiting for the grades on tests, waiting for Edward to kill me, waiting for Edward to kiss me…

I needed a good punch in the head. Something was wrong with my internal circuitry.

The waiting didn't end when the lunch bell went. Jess and Angie met me at the cafeteria doors. Jess had already started filling Angie in about how my hatred had blossomed into an unholy attraction to Edward. Well, that was my interpretation of the expression of Angie's face. She had picked up my hatred and fear vibes better than Jess. She had a big problem with my newfound friendship with Edward. I couldn't blame her. I'd given her all the warning signs.

"He's not as bad as I thought," I told her. I said it convincingly because it was true. Edward was terrible, just not as terrible as I'd thought. He had a few sprinkles of genuine good in him.

"I don't know, Bella," Angie mumbled. Her forehead wrinkled, and her concern was clear in her low, anxious tone.

"Trust me, Angie," I said, laying my hands on her shoulders, looking directly in her eyes. "I'm not going to let Edward hurt me. If things go wrong, you'll be the first to know. But right now, things are great. I like him, he likes me, so no need for concern."

Angie closed her mouth; her lips pressed tightly, the right corner twisted upward. The wrinkles didn't fade. She didn't buy what I was selling.

"You'll keep me posted?" she asked.

I crossed my fingers over my heart. "Scout's honour. You'll know about any and all changes, progressions and regressions."

The wrinkles faded but her mouth stayed closed, wrestling with the urge to tell me she felt the whole idea was terrible. Angie had good instincts.

Jess jumped in to help then. "Come on, Angie, he's likes her. He's not trying to _murder_ her."

I was glad Angie was looking at Jess then, because I probably had an expression of pure horror on my face. Was Jess getting the same vibes as Angie? Maybe she understood perfectly what was going on, but wanted me dead, so she wouldn't have anyone standing in the way between her and Mike. Sometimes she said things that were way too accurate.

Angie laughed. "You're right. I'll let it go." She forced herself to smile. "Do what makes you happy. I'm here to support you."

"Thanks."

Jess cleared her throat. She wagged her eyebrows.

"Thanks to you too, Jess," I said, laughing. She loved attention, so she wouldn't let me forget her.

"I think they're serving some good today," Angie said, her head spinning toward the doors. "It smells yum. Maybe they're cooking grease and fat with a layer of salt. That's what it smells like."

"Gross, Angie," Jess teased. "But you did just describe the smell of all the disgusting fast food dishes that people get addicted to _so_…" She shrugged. "It must be good."

"Angie, is there anyone you're interested in?" I asked.

Jess and Angie both froze, their hands on the doors, holding them half-open. They stared at me, surprised. Angie's expression morphed from surprise to embarrassment. Her chin dropped. That meant there was a yes to my apparently awkward question.

Jess's eyes shot from me to Angie, back and forth, her mouth widening, her eyes sparkling with the promise of another friend she could interrogate about her romantic rendezvous. "Angie. You never mentioned that there was a _someone_!"

"There isn't," she whispered as she slipped through the door.

Jess giggled at me, and held her hand up for a high five. I raised my hand and waited for her slap. Even though I'd prepared myself, I felt a jolt. That girl had some unnecessary strength in her high-five.

I followed Jess into the cafeteria. Angie was already in line. The greasy-salty smelling something was the fries, the tater tots, or maybe the bacon burgers.

Jess tapped Angie's shoulder only to be ignored. Angie was the kind of girl who liked to keep her person stuff personal, private. I couldn't blame her. And maybe that was why I liked her better than Jess. There was nothing wrong with Jess' enthusiasm, but sometimes some things needed to be brooded over quietly.

A strange buzz tingled through my skin. I was being watched again. There probably wasn't a way to get used to that.

Searching the cafeteria, my eyes first found the Cullens. Edward wasn't with them. The broad, tall one was Emmett, and he had his back to me, but Rosalie, Alice, and Jasper were on the other side, their faces visible to me. Jasper looked as tortured and constipated as usual—and yet attractive at the same time, which was off-putting, but maybe that was part of his vampire strategy, to scare away potential human snacks so he wouldn't be tempted. Rosalie and Alice were night and day. Rosalie was a glowing, burning sun and Alice was dark, her pale skin was the face of the moon and her black hair was the night surrounding her. Two very different girls, but both were staring at me.

Rosalie's expression was obvious. She hated me. It wasn't the murderous aura that Edward had when he seemed ready to eat me, not it was a hatred that was a step up from annoyance. She found me aggravating.

I looked down at my outfit again, gently patted my hair to check for any out of place curls. Even at my best, I didn't compare to her. To me, that was aggravating. I wondered if her expression meant she'd judged my attempt to look pretty, and she wasn't impressed.

Alice was a different story. When she found my eyes on her, she bared her teeth in a smile so ferocious; I had to take a step back. She waved her hand at me. She seemed to think we were long lost friends, or maybe long lost sisters, meeting again for the first time in years at an airport terminal. In a minute we'd embrace and frantically squeal and demand to know every detail we'd missed of the other's life. Frankly, I preferred Rosalie's hatred to Alice's unexplainable friendliness.

After conforming where the unfamiliar stares were coming from, I searched the cafeteria tables for one more face. He hadn't sat with his siblings, and he was expecting to see me, so he couldn't be far.

Ah-ha! Found him. He was sitting alone. His eyes were shooting lasers at me. He wasn't happy I hadn't come directly to him the second the bell rang. Screw him. I wasn't going to let him be the dictator of my life.

Never mind. I was. Because he held out a hand, and waved me over with a wag of his finger. It was like there was a string tied around that finger that connected to my waist and tugged me closer. Irresistible Edward, as Jess had pointed out. If I didn't go to him now, he'd probably eat me later.

"Guys, I have to go."

Jess and Angie looked at me, and then followed my eyes. Jess giggled, but Angie frowned. She didn't say anything, which was both a silent plea of disapproval and an attempt to support my ill-fated relationship.

"Lunch date?" Jess teased. Her elbow nudged my side.

"I promised we'd meet up," I said, as if it were a girlish confession, rather than a lie. That string was manipulating me, tugging me close again. "I'll see you later."

"Count on it," Jess warned. She was happily awaiting more details from me to obsess and gush over.

Reluctantly, I followed the tugging string. Edward was all smiles when I sat down. He really enjoyed having me wrapped around his finger. Where was Van Helsing when you needed him?

"What's up?" I asked flatly.

He shook his head and chuckled.

"Okay, I missed the joke," I admitted. "You're gunna have to explain the punch line."

"There's no joke, except this," he said, gesturing to the space between us. He leaned closer across the table. "I would encourage you to keep fighting against me, but I'm afraid of what harm that might cause."

I glanced at the Cullens' table again. Rosalie pointedly narrowed her eyes at me and then looked away. Alice waved again.

"Harm to whom?" I set my elbow on the table and leaned a little closer, but not too much, I didn't want to encourage him further. "Harm to your pride or harm to my hide?"

"My pride is of little consequence concerning you," he assured me. "There is no turning back, Bella."

I dropped my elbow and leaned closer. "It was already too late when you found me," I spoke quietly, knowing it was the truest thing either of us could say. "The day we met, there was no turning back."

"For ill or for gain, this is our fate," he agreed.

I dropped my head. Somehow I'd found myself waiting again. I had to wait to see how this would all end, and that ending might not come for years, and it might come tomorrow. It would only end when I died. My hope was that my death would be when I was 92, fast asleep, and I'd fade away in my dreams. My reality was that at any moment Edward's existence could end me. Maybe Rosalie would strange me for dating her brother. Maybe Edward would get really thirsty on a cool winter's evening and turn to me instead of a mug of steaming cocoa. I could only hope I would live to be thirty.

"Well, if my fate had to be entwined with a vampire, I'm glad it's you." I raised my head and smiled.

Edward drew back an inch, his eyebrows slanted down in confusion. He'd been rendered speechless. His hand reached for me, but he thought better of it and pulled back.

"At least you're _trying_ not to hurt me," I explained with a quick shrug. "I could have met someone who'd drain me dry without a second thought."

Edward closed his eyes. His forehead wrinkled. I recognized this expression; Angie had worn it a few minutes ago. Edward was concerned; he thought I was making a wrong decision. It was confusing, frustrating. He was the one telling me not to fight against him, ordering me to date him and be friends with him. Now from one change in expression, there was a desire to spin back the hands of time and try again to force us apart.

When he opened his eyes again, the amber irises flickered to my face. He was afraid of hurting me, afraid that he'd already done irreparable damage.

"You've changed," he said. His voice was hoarse.

"Maybe, but I don't think so." I leaned back in the chair, nearly tilting it backward as I balanced on the hind legs. "It's more like…I made a decision, and I'm sticking to it. It makes it easier to react to you."

"What was your decision?" he demanded. He was ready to drag me out of the cafeteria and bark out more orders, in case my decision was wrong.

Or maybe I had him painted wrong, maybe it was what he'd been speaking of earlier, the fear that if I refused him to often, if I ran away, the animal in him would chase me again. As long as I stayed close, he could be himself, rational. If I distanced myself, his instincts were to hunt me down. Edward didn't want that, he didn't want the animalistic side of him to emerge. He wanted to be human.

Hesitating, I made myself stand. I grabbed Edward's hand. "Come with me."

My touch was like Medusa's glare. Edward stared up at my, slack jawed and eyes wide. I rolled my eyes and tugged at his hand to make him stand. My strength wasn't enough to move him an inch.

"Do you want an answer or not?" I asked, setting my hand on my waist.

Edward's jaw snapped shut. He stood, fluidly, no longer stone. He let me lead him into the hall. When I didn't stop, I felt him begin to resist again, but he didn't pull away. I dragged him out the side doors of the school.

"I don't think anyone comes out this way," I said, once we were outside. "The smokers use the west door to sneak out."

Edward nodded. "No one will interrupt."

"Good," I said. I suddenly didn't feel good. Why had I dragged him out here—where no one could interrupt us—where no one could save me if he decided to chow down on my yummy virgin blood?

I hugged myself as the cool air seeped into my skin. It wasn't as grey as it had been that morning, and it wasn't raining, but it was still cool.

"Your decision?" Edward prompted.

"Yes. My decision." I threw a glance at the doors again. I'd been braver inside…but this wasn't something I wasn't to discuss where someone could overhear.

"Okay, I have more than one thing so say, and it might be a bit of a rant," I warned him. "But don't interrupt or you won't get it. So let me speak and I swear I'll force it all to make sense in the end. Okay?"

"Okay." He sounded unsure.

"Edward," I began, taking a breath. "You scare the crap out of me and every other second you give me a heart attack thinking that you're about to eat me."

He opened his mouth to protest. I held up a finger to shush him.

"Don't interrupt," I reminded him. "This is part one."

He craned his neck away and exhaled sharply. He didn't like being silenced.

"I don't think that's going to go away no matter how many times you save my life," I continued. "And I thank you again for that. But that doesn't give you an excuse to order me around!" I put my hands on my hips, and even with my voice raised, I tried not to shout in case some unsuspecting human strolled by.

"We're dating, fine. You want to meet with me at lunch, fine. But _request_ it, don't demand it."

Edward's eyes twitched to my face. He knew very well that ordering around a teenage girl was a bad idea; he just hadn't expected to be called out on it.

"I know you have your reasons," I said, lowered my voice again, sounding softer, not wanting to scare him away. "But even if you scare me, I know the side of you I like doesn't want to make my life miserable. You said we should get along, so let's get along."

He cocked his head to the side. "The side of me you like?"

"That's part two," I said, with a slight shrug, feeling uncomfortable. This was the part of the rant I'd wanted to avoid. "I find this tougher to say then yelling at you for trying to kill me and my social life."

He smirked. "I think I find ordering you around easier than asking for you to cooperate with me."

I grinned. "Then we both have something to work on."

Edward nodded and then bowed his head. He probably had more work to do than I.

"I think we both know there's more to our…" I was blushing, and stuttering. The cool air made the heat in my face easier to notice. "Our _relationship_ is…it isn't friendship, Edward, and it's never going to be that. I think you knew that even when you first suggested we should try to get to know each other."

He was silent. He knew I was right.

"I don't know _what_'s between us," I said in a hush, staring down at the line where the pavement met the grass. "I can't name it, but it's foolproof. I've tried ignoring it, but it won't go away. I don't know how it started, maybe because of the first time you saved my life. Maybe there was no reason."

"Bella." Edward said my name with reverence, and with pleading. He couldn't bear to hear another word.

I raised my head. Edward approached, slowly, to stand in front of me. He already knew what I was going to say, he already knew it would hurt him, because it wasn't the exact answer he wanted, but he knew it was the truth. So he had to hear it.

"I don't particularly like you, Edward," I confessed. "But I do want you."

His eyes tensed. "What to do you want me to say?"

My hand was shaking, but I touched his face, felt his pain and pleasure as he closed his eyes. He placed his hand over mine, entwined his fingers with mine, and pulled my hand away from his cheek.

"Say you want me," I told him, "for more than my blood."

"I want you," he murmured. He kissed my hand, held it close to his face. "For more than your blood."

I stepped back and took my hand with me. Edward remained frozen for a moment, hand still poised in the air, his eyes following me as I backed toward the doors.

"Then here's my decision," I said. "I'm not fighting against you anymore. I'm fighting with you."

He smiled small, his eyes were warmer, but he looked tortured. Admitting it out loud had been hard on him. It meant admitting how much it would hurt if he ever did slip up and gave into his vampire instincts. But in the long run, I knew he'd thank me. Admitting it out loud was setting up another defense, making his resolve to protect me even stronger.

"My other decision is that, I'm not going to let you hurt me," I warned him. "I'm on your side from now on, but I'll always be on my own side first."

"I understand," he said. "But you should know, from on, I am on your side first and foremost."

Candy hearts almost erupted from my ears. _Edward_ was on my side. Edward _wanted_ to be on my side. Edward wanted _me_. Why hadn't I met the non-vampire version of him? Maybe it would be too perfect that the world would explode. Fate invented the only plausible way to put a crease in my picture of perfection.

"Since you told me to ask, rather than demand," Edward said, approaching me slowly, so not to frighten me back some more. "I would like to spend time at your side, if you'll allow it?"

I blinked. It took a moment for my brain to translate his request. "A date? A real one, with no looming dangers ready to come at me?" I thought about it a moment. "I don't see why not. When?"

"I would say now _but_…"

On cue, the bell rang. My head spun. I hadn't realized we'd been talking so long.

"You're against skipping classes, I assume?" he finished, teasing me.

I rolled my eyes. "You only go through high school once, you know," I reminded him, "Unless you fail, which I _don't_ intend on doing. Plus my dad would not be happy."

"Humans only go through high school once," Edward corrected.

Horror showed itself on my face. Pity entered my eyes. "How many times have you gone through high school?"

"Many," he admitted. There was a mix of annoyance and humour in him; the humour was probably there for my benefit.

"Being a vampire must suck," I said. I started laughing when I realized I'd made a pun. "Sorry. I take it back. Being a vampire must not be fun."

He laughed too, although not quite as much as I had. "It's neither a stroll through to park nor a walk in hell."

"It depends on the vampire, I'm sure," I added. "Alice probably loves it. She seems happy with herself."

"She enjoys herself," he agreed. "Living for so long is always better when you have the right company."

"Like your family," I noted.

He nodded. "Their presence helps. Bearing our curse together makes our lives a blessing."

Edward's expression had softened again. He must have loved his family a great deal, because merely mentioning them had made him happier, and light as air.

"So why repeat high school? Why not become a con man with your mind-reading powers, get rich, and then retire to a spooky castle in Romania?" It sounded like a good plan to me. In fact, maybe I'd encourage him to do it for my sake. "But I guess it's not very inconspicuous, if that's what you're into."

"I know I haven't been myself around you," he said, his smile apologetic, "but my family and I prefer to embrace the humanity in us. We don't want to hide."

I hadn't thought of that. They already stuck out like a sore thumb, so becoming a con artist or a celebrity would make their secret obvious. There was nothing more mundane than high school. Who would imagine vampires in high school? It was the last place anyone wanted to be.

Except maybe high school _teachers_—but maybe the same thing that brought teachers back was what brought the Cullens back. Maybe I was missing something. Maybe it was the simplicity of the high school world. For Edward, being seventeen forever was probably a good reason to pretend to be a high school student.

"You know, this is the first time I've ever wanted you to keep talking," I realized.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Oh really?"

"Oh yeah, but, alas, I must set aside my curiosity so I can attend class," I reminded him. I sped-walked to the doors; still Edward beat me there and opened the door for me. "Thanks."

"The first time I attended high school I was a lot like you," he said, a constant commentary as I pushed through bodies to get to my locker, and then again as I tried to get to class. "I was punctual and attentive. Most of all I was eager to learn. Schooling was very different in the era I was born in."

I was halfway to my class. The second bell went. Good. I'd hurried enough that I'd be one, maybe two minutes late. That wasn't so bad.

"So you were definitely human once?" I'd already guessed that. I'd never read or heard of a vampire that was _born_ that way, even Dracula had been a man once…but I was basing that theory on the 1992 movie. But who could argue with Gary Oldman?

"Definitely," he answered.

"That must be an interesting story," I said, but didn't get the chance to elaborate, because I was there. The teacher walked in two seconds ahead of me.

Edward had successfully dodged my prompt about his past. Lucky him. But he wouldn't be that lucky for long. I'd drag it out of him eventually.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: Fan fic. net is still being a bugger about various things, so apparently I can only properly open, edit, and look at my documents before 6 PM, or else it goes haywire. Grrrrrrrrrrrr. This is especially frustrating because the only time of day that I have free time is after 6 PM. (Except today. Lucky me.)<p>

The next chapter, which is a really long one, will be up likely on the weekend. I'm a writing student at university so I have a lot of writing to do besides this story, so I tend to get busy. BUT my best prediction is that the next chapter will be up on the weekend, hopefully Saturday. Yay! Fingers-crossed.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Reviews are always appreciated.


	12. Chapter 11: Complications

_11. COMPLICATIONS_

EVERYONE WATCHED US AS WE WALKED TOGETHER TO OUR LAB TABLE. It was weird, like there was a sign on my forehead that read: Crazy chick with her crazy vampire. WATCH OUT! …Or like I'd turned into a lizard. The mutated and human-sized kind, with a lab coat on; everyone was offended we were pretending to be normal. Like them, I was waiting for Spiderman to swing in through the window and web-sling us. Waiting, but it never happened. So maybe being together wasn't the villainous thing I'd thought it was. Maybe we were the heroes that got a happy ending.

Based on the continued shifty glances from my classmates, I wasn't feeling like a hero.

Good thing the teacher was rational. He'd witnessed a great deal of unexpected couples in his years of teaching. I'm sure he was used to seeing someone normal with someone... Was _abnormal_ an offensive term to describe a vampire? If it were, I would have to make sure to use it on Edward a few times out loud, just to see what he'd do about it.

DNA was the topic of the class. It started off with peas, something about wrinkled pods and colours, but I'd already read ahead. It wasn't very interesting. What did interest me was the fact that DNA involved so many traits, and even recessive traits appear again if the right combinations of parents come into play. I wondered if telepathy was a recessive gene, or just part of the nonsense magical genetic code that made someone a vampire. Or maybe it wasn't genetics that made Edward a mind-reading vampire. Maybe it was like sticking a cucumber into a jar of vinegar.

At some point during the class, I stopped noticing the stares. I only know I stopped because when I stood at the sound of the bell, I felt their eyes look upon me anew. It's like they took a break during class to recharge, to add an extra zing of awe and spite in their looks.

Did they seriously have nothing better to do? I knew it was a small town but…seriously? Play Angry Birds if you're so bored. Learn Latin with your spare time. Don't waste energy watching me.

Just as a shudder rippled through me—my Spider's senses tingling—Edward's hand touched my back, steering me out of the classroom. He had a terrible habit of rushing. Nothing with him was slow. I could barely catch my breath around him.

"I can't convince you to skip class?" he asked. He knew the answer, but the spark of hope in his eyes was tempting. He was like a kid on Christmas: he knew the package felt like socks, but he wanted to pretend it was actually _Gears of War 2_ wrapped in socks.

"I'm going to class," I said, barely hiding a sneer behind a smile. I pulled away from his hand. It was like an icepack. I'd have to buy him gloves. Maybe he'd wear them thinking I was trying to be friendly, and that would save me from the ache of the cold.

"If you insist," he said sadly.

"Yes. I do."

He was at my locker before me. Once again, he proved that he knew my combination, and handed me my gym bag.

I wondered for a moment what a quick knee jab to his gonads would do to him, being a vampire. I decided not to risk it. He might not appreciate that.

I took my bag from him with a quick movement, but unreasonably slow compared to him. So quickness, cold skin, bloodlust, super-strength—was I missing anything? I guess there was the fact he was paler than a fresh sheet of paper…and had the complexion of a friggin' god. Damn him and his glow. Maybe he was secretly a pregnant mother.

I lifted a hand to brush back a loosened strand of hair, but Edward's hand was faster. I froze completely. Getting used to his familiarity and touching was proving impossible.

A slam behind me warmed me up enough to slam my own locker and bolt down the hall. That wasn't enough to lose him.

Why did I even try anymore? I should've stopped being surprised, just accepted that he'd always be there, even if I didn't see him at first. It made me wonder if he stalked me all the time or just most of the time…we'd have to have a little chat about that.

"You don't have gym right now," I reminded him.

"I know." Not Edward.

I froze. Crap. My Spidey senses were wrong!

I spun, already imagining the sight before my eyes could see it. Edward was there, but farther back, rolling his eyes. The person who had spoken was another Cold One, but just not the manly boy I'd anticipated.

"Hi, Bella," Alice said, her voice a song. Her eyes were golden and bright, like staring into the sun. She wore an emerald butterfly pinned in her short black hair.

"Hi…Alice." I blinked. How did breathing work again? In and…? What came after in? My personal space had been invaded, obliterated into nothing by this bouncing spark, this petite vampire; it was making it difficult to breath calmly.

"I heard the news," she said with a wink and what _looked_ like the lightest nudge with her elbow, but _felt_ like getting jabbed with a rock.

I held my hand over my arm, where she'd 'nudged'. There was going to be a bruise. Not a big one, but definitely a bruise. Alice didn't seem to notice that she hadn't fully contained her vampire strength.

"What news?" I asked.

"You and Edward," she said, rolling her eyes. Her teeth were each a 100 watt bulb, and she grinned wide enough that each of those shinning teeth blared in my eyes.

I stepped back, only to have her shift onto her hip closest to me. Any movement meant to get me further from her was useless. She was my secondary stalker.

I looked at Edward, who stood not far behind her, but far enough to imply he wasn't rescuing me from Alice. He shrugged. I hoped stalking wasn't another vampire trait. I remembered Rosalie's dislike for me and her glares. At least there was one vampire who wouldn't stalk me.

"I thought it was about time we talked," she said, still gleaming. She looped her arm around my neck—as if we'd been friends for a long time. "Girl talk; just you and me. What do you think?"

I looked to my sworn protector, wide-eyed with terror, mouthing the words "Help me". If the hall wasn't so crowded, and Alice didn't have her arm around me, I would've been on my knees begging. Please don't leave me alone with this strange, _strange_ vampire!

Edward's smile was small, his chin tilted down, his eyes looking up through his long, dark eyelashes. If he were a puppy, he'd be cute enough that I'd beg to take him home. As the vampire I'd agreed to date, it was pathetic to see that he had no intention of rescuing me. With that one expression, he'd admitted to me he thought it was a great idea that Alice and I become spontaneous friends-for-life. He also admitted that he had no power against Alice. Truly, she was the most frightening of all the vampires. You could tell from the way the green butterfly in her hair looked like a bow. Or maybe it was her baby-powder pink nail polish.

"I have to go to class." I looked at both of them, back and forth, eyes catching the students that trickled by; hoping one of them would recognize my fear and help me out.

"It's healthy to skip now and then," Alice encouraged. "You have a perfect attendance record, Bella. You'll be fine. Trust me."

Trust her? I didn't know her! Just when things had started to look up, another vampire brought it all crashing down. I was going to be gang drained by the Cullens. I just knew it.

I shot another pleading glance at Edward. He was laughing at me.

Reluctantly, I shoved my bag into Edward's chest. He seemed surprised. Ah-ha! Finally I'd caught him off-guard.

"Take this to my locker," I ordered confidently. "Apparently I'm not going to gym today."

Alice giggled and grabbed my arm. "Yes." She cheered and steered my body away from the gym doors. "Don't worry, Edward, I'll take good care of her."

I looked at the doors in the distance. Never had I so longingly wished to go to gym before. Maybe I was coming down with something.

Edward hadn't gotten over his surprised. He hadn't expected me to ever go willingly with Alice. Maybe he'd wanted more of a fight.

"It's not like you don't know the combo," I shouted back.

The surprised faded then, replaced with traces of a smile, and traces of an Edward who'd just realized that I was going to take advantage of him whenever he'd let me. Maybe even when he didn't let me.

Alice took me to the parking lot. I wasn't surprised when she told me to 'get in' and was already in the front seat of Edward's Volvo. Alice was going to have her way, and it was pointless to cause ripples in her plans. Edward wouldn't let me go away with her if there was even a chance of her hurting me. I could trust in that.

"Was this planned or spontaneous?" I asked her.

She didn't even pretend to look behind her as she pulled out. She just knew no one was there.

"Both," she answered. "I made sure to ask Edward's permission first. I assured him that this was for the best—for everyone—if you and I speak."

For everyone. So that included Edward, me, Alice…the Cullens? Who was this 'everyone' that my dealings with Edward affected?

"What are we going to talk about?" I yanked the seatbelt into place. "I don't think 'girl talk' is the right cover story."

"I didn't want to worry you more than necessary in front of Edward," she explained. "If you completely panicked, he would've panicked, he wouldn't have let you run away with me."

Oh great. Run away with her. Were we getting married? When it came to Alice, I had no way to be sure what she meant.

"I'm sure you have too many questions to have a proper chat with me," she said, sending a wink at me, "so I'll give you some answers before we get too serious."

Answers. I liked where this was going.

"Firstly, you already know Edward can read minds," she began, her tone dropping, becoming less fantastically insane, not the girl I'd grown used to. "When a human becomes a vampire, many things are heightened. We get stronger, we live longer—much longer—and we're a hell of a lot harder to kill. Keeping up with me so far, Bella?"

I nodded rapidly. I thought taking out my cell phone to take notes would seem rude, so I made a mental notepad instead and hoped I'd retain all the new fun facts.

"Awesome. So when physical stuff becomes superhero worthy, there are other traits heightened," she continued. "Usually it's just a personality trait. For a simple example, people who like money, get really greedy. People who are proud—get hell of a lot prouder, their pride drives them in everything they do. If you brave as a human, you become absolutely recklessly fearless as a vampire. Kind people become the Mother Theresa of vampires."

"Was Edward a stalker as a human?" I asked, eyes fixed forward, lost in my own delusions. It was too creepy a thought to picture clearly.

"That's not the trait that was heightened," she said, her voice monotone. "But sadly, he is more obsessive. Which is super annoying when we're competing. He doesn't like losing."

I nodded. "Makes sense."

"But that's not the direction I was headed."

I leaned back in the seat. The car smelled like him. Even with Alice's sugary scent, I could feel Edward's presence, like he was the one sitting in the driver's seat. It was probably a good thing I wasn't driving. I wasn't in my right mind.

"For some vampires, the transition from human to vampire heightens abilities they might not have known they had," she said, getting back to her more bubbly tone, the voice that was sweet enough to raise the dead from their graves and makes the bubble bees dance around the tombstones. Or lead cheerleaders at a pep rally.

"Edward found out he can read minds," I supplied.

"And I can see the future," she said. She made bug-eyes and formed an o-shape with her mouth. She made a booing, howling sort of noise. I could almost picture the flashlight under her chin as she sat by a campfire.

It took a moment to realize that, despite her expression parodying a ghoul, she was actually being serious.

"It's not the easiest thing to do," she said, shaking her head. She turned down a long, empty road. "It's flashes, sounds, and smells. It isn't always lucid. It's like, I'm given a book in another language, and I've only learned certain letters and phrases, so there are only certain pieces I can understand. Weather and accidents are easy. Seeing decisions are hard. When someone chooses something, it can go so many different way, and so many people change their mind half way through their decisions, so it always feels like I'm missing a piece. I've gotten good at it now though, so I can predict my predictions—anticipate what's coming. I have 99 percent accuracy. So, I'm usually right."

I watched her with definite awe. Any other person telling me they could see the future, I would laugh. Alice telling me, it couldn't more real. It wasn't that she and her explanation took me in; she was shooting outwards. I could almost see how it worked. It was like she was tree, and her branches and roots shot outwards, connecting to everyone and every thing in the world, and she could see it all, if she only concentrated on what she wanted to see.

"It isn't always voluntary," she warned, "I have more control than Edward, but it's not perfect. Sometimes I chose to see things, and sometimes it chooses for me."

"Sounds like fun."

She grinned and raised a perfectly slender eyebrow. "C'est la vie, Bella."

I looked out at the road we were driving on. I didn't recognize it. We'd driven away from the school and out of town in a direction I'd never gone before.

"Where, exactly, are you—?"

Before I could finish the question, Alice turned the wheel, pulling us off the road, and parked us. We were parked on the side of the road, in the middle of who knew where.

"I just wanted to get out of hearing range," she explained.

"Hearing range?"

"No humans, no vampires, anywhere within seeing or hearing range," she said, gesturing with a raised arm. "It's nice to not worry about anyone interfering, right? And I mean that in the least threatening way, Bella."

I nodded. "Sure." I wasn't sure that made me feel better.

"Jasper too," she continued, like she hadn't accidentally made me worry about my chances of survival. "He can effect emotions."

"Effect emotions?" I narrowed my eyes. "That needs an explanation."

"He can relax people, just by wanting it, or make you angry, or happy," she listed. "The downside of that power is he feels everything, all the emotions those around him are feeling." Her eyes fell, her energy switched from positive to negative for a second. For a moment she really was like a moon in the night sky, a dim glow in all the darkness surrounding her. "He literally feels the worries of everyone else." Her eyes flickered to mine, a weak smile in her thinned lips. She was worried for him. "I wish sometimes that I could take the weight of the world from him, but I know that's not what he needs. He only needs love, a reminder that he is strong."

Alice held my eyes for a minute. Neither of us moved. She didn't breath. I did, but to my surprise I was calm. Somehow, without me realizing it, she'd made me feel it. She'd acted like we'd been friends forever, and in that moment our eyes met and she spoke so honestly and deeply, I felt like I knew her. Maybe this was another heightened trait of hers—the ability to make fast friends with anyone.

"Must be tough," I said, finally, to break the silence, worried that it would become uncomfortable.

A flare grew in her eyes. "Yeah, well that's my man."

"You can keep him," I assured her, hands raised to surrender.

"Even if Jasper wasn't in love already, you have your own," she teased, elbowing me again, gently bruising me again.

I rubbed my arm, a subtle hint that she needed to watch her strength. "People really love gossip, don't they?"

"I already knew from the day you arrived in Forks," she revealed with another wink. She'd alternately to the other eye, to give the other a rest. "It wasn't definite then, there were a few forks in the road of destiny, but in the end it led back to this. And here we are." She opened her arms as if to encircle me, but put her hands back on the wheel.

"Here we are," I agreed. I glanced behind to the empty road, then over to the thick shadowy forest on either side of us, and then back to her smiling gold eyes. "Can't say I'm _happy_ to hear that you're not the first person to say that this…that Edward and I…were _meant_ to happen."

She shrugged her right shoulder. "The undeniable is undeniable, and destiny is destiny. Details can always be changed, but the end is the same, always."

I hung my elbow on the dashboard and pressed my chin into my palm. As much as I wanted to accept what was happening and hope for the best, the thought of all my actions leading to some definite destiny was worrisome. Was my destiny really to wait to_ die_? Would Edward try and fail in every future Alice saw? Or would Edward succeed in half and fail in half? Or was I only seeing the glass half empty when in Alice's visions it was completely full? I wanted to be happy. Was I on the right road?

"Hm. So what other answers can I give?" Alice shifted in her seat, her legs propped over the steering wheel. "Edward already spilled that we only drink animal blood—mostly predatory animals, like bears, wild cats, that sort of thing. No wolves though—but that's not because of taste, more like…well, it would be in bad taste, to put it simply. And I can't say it would go over well."

"Why?" I asked.

She shrugged. That was her answer. She didn't speak for a moment, which meant she wouldn't say anymore on the subject.

"Sunlight doesn't hurt us, we don't sleep in coffins, and Carlisle is a devote believer, so don't even think about crosses and holy water," Alice ranted. "Carlisle has his own set of rules for vampires though, I guess it's like the Church of Carlisle, believing in God for vampires." She smirked. "I'll let you figure that out on your own. It's easier to understand if you see it first hand."

"Oh." I hoped meeting Carlisle would go over well. Right now I was trying to morph my mental image of Dracula with a TV Evangelist. It wasn't working.

"Carlisle is the reason Edward is as strong as he is now, the reason he's able to resist," Alice said, her face close. She'd pulled her legs down and was invading my personal space again. "You could say Carlisle's heightened trait is his morality, and he inspires morality in those around him. For us, his family, he's a reminder of our humanity."

I took away the images of Carlisle I'd formed. Carlisle was their father, right? Maybe not a biological father, but when did that matter for the definition of a father? Yeah, blood bound me to my dad, but it was also love that made our bond. My image of Carlisle wasn't just a vampire anymore. My image was a father, and maybe that was the perfect combination of religion and Dracula. He was true north, and when the Cullens needed a reminder of their humanity, that's where they looked, where their hearts were pulled.

I think I was getting the hang of this.

"So the rest of your family? No magical heightened traits?" I crossed my arms, completely relaxed around her now.

"Emmett got stronger, stronger than your average vampire, Esme cares—and I mean really, truly cares about everyone she meets, not superficially—and mothers them, and Rosalie…we're pretty sure she got prettier, but it could have been her vanity increased, it's still up for debate," Alice listed quickly, pointing to the fingers on her left hand one by one, like checking words off a grocery list. "The ruling theory is her vanity. She probably thinks the song is about her."

I blinked. "Huh?"

Alice turned the radio knob. The song Vain, sung by Jann Arden was playing on the radio. _You're so vain. / You probably think this song is about you. / You're so vain. / I'll bet you think this song is about you. / Don't you? Don't you?_

Alice twisted the knob the opposite way. She really was psychic, to time it so well. It was safe to say I was fervently impressed.

"Why do you go to high school, Alice?" I asked. At the moment, I didn't care if she had the answer to why Edward or Rosalie or any other vampire lived her lifestyle. I wanted to know her reasons.

"Human connection," she said with a shrug. She propped the door open and let her legs hang out. "Living as long as we do, we meet so many, lose so many connections, but the humanity in us always wants to connect again."

She stood, and I hurried out of my side of the car to stand with her. She was already sitting in the roof of the car when I got out. I leaned against the car frame, elbows up on the roof.

"It's not really living forever if you're alone," she said, hanging her head back, eyes closed to the sun, her pale face turning gold under the light. "You have to connect if you want to be happy."

I hung my head, shadowing my face from the stinging light.

Living forever sounded, to me, like a tragic life. Alice seemed happy, but I knew quite easily that I wasn't her. I'd had enough trouble making connections in my mortal life. How lonely to be condemned to live forever.

"You're lucky you have Jasper," I said. "And your family. You're not alone at least."

"Of course," she agreed. "Jasper and my family are my happiness. And living together is my joy. Every time we relocate, re-entering high school under aliases, trying to connect to the ever changing world, it's my family that keeps me alive." She twisted her neck to look at me, seeming like an owl in how easily she moved. "We all feel that way."

"When will you leave Forks?" I felt a sadness in me, knowing they would leave—that Edward, and someone as oddly interesting as Alice, would leave me behind—but at the same time, I wondered if Edward's infatuation with me would fade if he moved away.

"Hmmmmmm…" The sound buzzed over her lips. "Probably when Edward and I graduate. It's different this time."

My head shot up. "Different?" The sun blinded me. I raised a hand to shield my eyes.

Alice had moved when I'd blinked. She sat with her legs hanging over my side of the car, pressed her hand over mine. "Different," she echoed. "Because he found you."

Alice hopped off the roof. I cast a quick look over my shoulder to catch her doing a few cartwheels and stretching her arms above her head.

There was a snake in my stomach, twisting and squeezing, biting its sharp fangs into my heart. It was painful, but the venom from the bite made my blood feel like cotton candy. It was painful, but somehow it was happy.

"I don't understand."

"And that's why we needed to talk."

I shut the car door and leaned against it, watching Alice do a handstand for an impressive amount of time, her face never reddening.

"Why would I make it different?" I asked, shaking my head. "If you guys usually leave after you and Edward graduate, why not this time? I'm guessing it's so you're not found out, but I'm sure boredom plays a factor to. If you're saying having me around makes Edward's life less boring, I don't think that's a reason to stay."

"That's not the only reason," she said. Her voice sounded normal, despite her vocal chords now being upside down. "And he doesn't like you because he alleviates boredom."

I lifted my arms and then dropped them, unsure what to do with my hands. It was weird standing still when Alice was watching me with her head at my ankles.

"I know my blood is tasty, but that's probably a reason to leave, if he's planning to stick to his lions and tigers and bears diet."

"Oh my." Alice flipped in the air—like an Olympic gymnast, causing my jaw to drop and eyes to pop—before landing flat on her emerald flats. "You seem to have forgotten he likes you. _You_, Bella." She bounced beside me; her palms pressed against the shining metal sides, bobbing back and forth, her hands then the air, then again. "To vampires, the need for blood is always there—and it is a _need_, not a want. But we know when we want other things, when we need other things. Right now, Edward wants you, Bella, and very soon he'll _need_ you."

"Hold the phone, Alice." I backed away from the car. "Need me? I'm not a cigarette. Edward already has an unhealthy relationship with my blood. I don't need him addicted to me too."

"Maybe you don't need it…" She shrugged. "But you definitely want it."

Blood rushed to my cheeks. I narrowed my eyes, my throat tightened. "What?"

She rolled her eyes and then spoke in a very good Italian accent. "Come on, Isabella. Admit what you know to be true."

I bit my lip and turned my eyes away. I was still blushing, but I could push back the insult I'd felt when she'd accused me of wanting Edward to be addicted to me.

I got what she was saying. I liked Edward. In simple terms, he was hot. Jess had said that he was irresistible, so, yes; I had to admit I wanted him and I was crazy enough to accept that we had a relationship—we were (apparently) dating. I was dating a vampire who wanted my blood, but also wanted me. I'd decided I'd accept all that, and go wherever all that took me.

I'd also decided I wouldn't let him hurt me. So, whether things were different this time for him or not, it didn't matter as long as I came out alive.

"As his sister, what is it you want me to do?"

Alice stopped bouncing. "Survive." She paused, her lips thinned. "I want my brother to be happy—and that will only happen if you survive. It will destroy him if he hurts you. I know this for certain."

Edward's words from earlier came back to me. I knew what he meant now, the implications that I had a better chance of survival than him, because he already knew what Alice was telling me. He wouldn't survive the guilt if he killed me.

"If you weren't his sister, if you were on my side," I asked, "would your answer change?"

Her eyes met mine, her smile warm and gentle, like she would be the first to hug me if I ever broke down. "I am on your side, Bella."

"And?"

Alice's eyes tensed, her expression flat. "Be happy," she said. "No matter what you have to do."

I nodded my head once. Happy. I wanted that.

"You really think Edward's going to need me?" I asked uncertainly. I looked down at myself. I was only human, even with the extra time spent on my hair.

"I know." She said, tapping her forehead. "I've been on this earth long enough to recognize it. Plus, I'm psychic."

"Huh." I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my heel against the ground a few times. "You must ace all your tests."

"Every fifty questions, I flip a coin to decide if I should get one right or not," she said, wearing a wide, guilty smirk. "Well, sort of. I already know the outcome of the coin toss. But it still works to keep the suspicions away."

I exhaled. I was jealous of that test-passing ability. Sure I got good grades, but I had to work for them.

"Is that all we needed to talk about?" I was hoping that was the case. As much as I'd gotten used to Alice, getting used to talking about Edward and my possible demise out loud was not something I'd be used to anytime soon.

"Let's see." She narrowed her eyes. "I told you vampires have heightened abilities. I told you to get along with my brother. I told you that you should be happy. What else?" She held a finger to her bottom lip and stared up and left, twisting her lips in thought.

"How about tell her I was coming?" Edward asked.

I jumped—literally jumped—when I heard his voice. My skin almost fell off from the shock. He laughed and, watching the dirt form impressions under his feet, stepped hesitantly toward me.

"I thought you could tell her when you got here," she said with a shrug, palms raised. "It looks like it worked."

I caught the last of my breath, rolling my eyes and mentally cursing his name. I'd never liked surprises.

"What are you doing here?" I looked around him and found no second car. "How did you get here?"

"Ran," they said in unison. Edward shot his sister an annoyed look, but she only laughed, mocking him. They were siblings first, vampires second.

"Oh." I narrowed my eyes. I really wanted super-speed. Then I could sneak up on him for once. "So that brings me back to _what_ are you doing here."

"Road trip!" Alice demanded, her fingers curled into fists at her sides. She raised one hand to fist-pump.

"Some other time, Alice," Edward said, raising an eyebrow, as if exchanging some secret with her I wasn't allowed to hear.

"I think I need to get back to school, or home…" I looked at my cellphone. School would be out in an hour. I thought about going back, but I'd already skipped one class, why not try for two? I didn't feel like I could absorb any more than I already had today. "My dad would kind of not be pleased if I vanished for a random road trip."

"Gotcha," Alice said with a bob of her head. "Next time."

Next time? How about never? I wasn't sure a vampire road trip would be to my liking. Their description of fun was painting the town red, and mine was a little quieter.

Alice wormed her way into the back seat, and I got into the passenger side, the door already held open by Edward. No sooner had I gotten in than Edward had started the engine. I noticed he waited for me to buckle before he pulled away. How sweet. It was annoying to be treated like I was so delicate and feeble, but also sweet.

The drive wasn't quiet, but I can't say I was listening. Alice didn't stop talking. She didn't take a breath once. The only reactions she needed from me were occasional nods, and even when I forgot to pay attention, she continued on anyway. She seemed to think that it was about time the Cullens threw a house party, since humans neglected to invite them—or in Alice's words, didn't invite them because the natural predator vibe they gave off. How could she blame them for being wary of them; did mice invite snakes to their tea parties?

No. They didn't.

Alice's words played ping-pong in my head, and every time the ball was dropped I found myself watching Edward too closely. I'd been told he'd need me—told by his sister, by a psychic. It was hard to argue with her—especially when Edward's actions around me lately proved her point. He wouldn't let me go. I'd say that was undeniable proof that we'd wandered from the island of want into the dangerous dark waters of need.

Edward's eyes found me watching him—again, and again. Each time I looked away, each time feeling like a rowboat in a storm, barely surviving ocean waves and lightning, but still my eyes wandered to his face again. I wanted to catch him looking my way again, because I couldn't believe it was true until he looked.

Alice had said it was different this time. She'd said maybe they—maybe _he_—wouldn't leave because of me. Edward had been alive a long time—a time he hadn't measure for me yet—but at the very least he'd lived more than a few decades. That much was obvious in his eyes. So in that time, he'd never come across someone that made it _different_?

Alice had Jasper. Alice loved Jasper, and what from little I'd seen of him, I thought he must love her. Emmett and Rosalie had that tie too. Rosalie was Emmett's planet and he, even though he was the bigger object, was only a tiny satellite orbiting around her. I didn't know what the relationship between Carlisle and Esme was like, but everything had a pattern with the Cullens. Vampires seemed to like hooking up in pairs, unbreakable pairs; like a set of lungs breathing together.

Where was the other half of Edward?

_Different this time_, she'd said._ I_ was different.

I wondered if he could hear my heart beating fast now. I put my frozen palm to my chest, wishing I could force the beating to slow.

Edward's eyes caught the movement. His eyes traced over my hand, moving up, dragging over my throat, over my lips, and finally settling in my eyes.

Different this time…No way.

I turned my head away. I was definitely over-thinking things. Edward had started liking me because I smelled good, because he knew I would taste good. It was like dating someone because they had a nice car or had an employee discount at the bar. Even if things between us were real now, it only started because of my blood. It wasn't different for any reason other than that. Edward would leave and forget me once he got me out of his system. I just had to hold on tight and enjoy the ride until then.

I felt the wheels lock as the front door of my house slid by the window. I didn't waste a second. I clicked and yanked the seatbelt off.

"It was nice getting to know you, Alice," I said, throwing a fast glance over my shoulder. "I was wrong about you."

Troubled, she pursed her lips, her eyebrows pulling down. "What did you think about me before?"

"Frankly, you scared me," I admitted. "And you still scare me, but, I like you now."

Her eyes brightened. With a cheer she leaped from the back seat and threw her arms around me. "I knew we'd be great friends!"

"Slow down, Alice," I warned her, patting her back awkwardly as she strangled me unintentionally. "I'm only human."

She popped backward and propped her legs against the window, arms behind her head as she leaned down in the seat. "I'll remember that for next time."

Unable to resist the urge to laugh, I got out of the car, so I could hide my face from Edward. I didn't want him to think I'd always be so relaxed around him. We still had things to talk about, even if we were better off than before.

I shut the door and went around the front of the car. I heard Edward's window roll down. I turned.

"Thanks for the ride, Edward."

"Bella," he said. He looked ready to drag me back and hog-tie me with the seatbelt. Maybe he'd re-thought Alice's road trip idea and wanted to kidnap me.

I huddled closer, put my hands on my knees and leaned down to meet his eyes. "What?"

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," he warned, no trace of a smile. His words were almost threatening. Almost, but Alice's stifled giggling from the back ruined the tone.

"I'll be here," I assured him.

He wasn't amused. Apparently he did remember that I didn't have a choice that I'd be here, since this was my house, where I lived. There wasn't some secret place I'd sneak off to in the middle of the night. After our talk, I would have thought he'd trust me a little more.

I walked backward up the driveway and waved him away. He was reluctant to go, and it didn't help when I tripped, having stepped on the toe of my left shoe. Blushing I steadied myself and hurried, walking forward, to my front door. I slammed the door shut behind me.

I could imagine them both laughing now. Alice with her high, soft giggling and Edward with his smooth, dark laughter—always a mix of mockery and seduction—and that laughter was directed at me.

At supper, Dad and I sat down to steak. Dad dug into his heartily, like it was the last supper he'd ever have. I stared at mine, fork and knife in hand. I made several attempts, but each time my knife was about to poke at the meat, I drew back. Dad had to take a break from his mouthfuls to swallow and ask.

"Is something wrong?" He looked over my untouched meal—untouched except the mix of carrots, peas, and corn I'd already eaten.

"This was alive once," I said.

"Yes," he said, like I'd said the sky was blue.

"It had blood," I continued, my voice lowering, like I was in a church with the Pope. "Eating this means I'm a predator who's given into my need for meat, for something that once had blood."

"Jesus, Bell," he shouted, his eyes wide and voice strained. "I've never heard you talk this way. What's wrong?"

"Lately, I've been thinking about vegetarianism," I admitted, "a lot. It's nice to think some people can do it."

Dad blinked. He searched his almost empty plate—empty, except for the untouched small pile of vegetables. His eyes fell slowly over my plate.

"As long as you don't starve yourself, you can eat whatever you like," he said.

I stuck my fork into the steak. It wasn't easy, but I forced myself to cut a small piece off. It was hard not to imagine my knife and fork as Edward's fangs, and I the defenseless piece of meat. I put the piece on my tongue and chewed.

Dad leaned forward, watching with narrowed, worried eyes. His fear and uncertainty were as great as mine. He held his breath as I chewed.

"Mm."

"Well," Dad asked, "Bella?"

I swallowed. "This was well done, Dad." I sliced into the meat and shoved another piece in my mouth.

"So you're not a becoming a vegetarian?" he asked, worry still vivid in his eyes. He'd started to look pale, but with the second bite I'd allowed him to breath easier.

"Nope, meat is delicious," I decided. "I am never giving it up."

He exhaled deeply and settled back into his chair. "Good. I can't cook tofu."

"I can't eat tofu," I told him, raising my fork, steak sticking to it, as if I were making a toast.

Dad laughed. He took another bite, still laughing.

"I feel sorry for Edward now," I said. After I said it, I forgot if I'd said it out loud on purpose, or if it had been a slip. All I knew for sure was that we both froze for a second, looked up, met each other's eyes, and he automatically assumed something.

"Edward Cullen is a vegetarian," I said. It was the truth as far as I'd been told, so Dad had no reason to question it.

"I didn't realize you were friends with Edward," he said, his hint as what 'friends' meant wasn't subtle. His eyes jabbed into mine, begging me to say the opposite of what he knew was true.

"It was a recent…development." I mentally kicked myself for the poor word choice. How else could I explain the swift and odd changes that had happened in my life? Where did the lies and the truth meet? I was beginning to wonder how much I could say to him.

"How recent?" he asked. He wanted to know when we started dating. And he wanted me to explicitly tell him Edward and I weren't interested in each other, and that I'd become a nun.

"I don't really keep track of when I _exactly_ become friends with someone," I said, "I don't record the date in a calendar. I mean, we sit next to each other in Biology, and sometimes we talked and sometimes he ignored me. I guess he stopped ignoring me, so we're friends. Don't ask me why or how. Forks has a lot of weird people in it."

"Forks is a great place," he said, lifting a fork to point at me.

"So they say," I mumbled. I chewed on another slice, giving me an excuse to be silent.

Dad dropped the subject of Edward, but not the subject of friends and Forks. He wanted to check up on me, make sure I was socializing—just not socializing with boys. He needed to make sure I was happy.

After supper, I called mom, feeling like I hadn't spoken to her in years. She had a lot to say about herself, about Phil. They were great. Together, just the two of them, they'd never been happier. She asked about me then. There was a lot of dead air. I couldn't tell her anything.

_How's school?_

Great. Got a 95% on a test. My calculator's batteries ran out halfway through the test too. Luckily I'd been carrying extras, since I hadn't changed the batteries since I bought the darn thing.

_How are your friends? Bella? You're having fun right? Not just homework?_

Yeah. I had friends. I spent time with them. Then I'd gotten separated from them and almost murdered and then rescued by my then vampire stalker now vampire boyfriend—but I couldn't say that. I left the dramatic parts out. I had friends. I'd had fun.

_Any notable boys come to town since I skedaddled out of that one horse town?_

What could I say about Edward? Hm. Well, there were lots of nice guys in Forks but…

_But?_

Irresistible Edward. It was different this time, because of me. Yes, that made him notable. So I told Mom that there was one interesting guy, but it was better to let her think it was going slower. We'd been on one date, and that's all she'd want to know.

She rambled, giving me advice. She told me what I should wear, how I should do my hair. She encouraged me to go shopping—again—to find better clothes. Apparently she didn't think my clothes were good enough. Not for Edward.

"Mom?" I asked, closing my eyes.

"Yes, Bella?" I could hear the smile in her voice. She didn't have a care in the world. I was so far _away from her_…

…But she didn't have a care in the world.

"I should come see you at Christmas," I blurted. The hopeful note in my voice was probably too obvious, too desperate. "I miss you, Mom."

"I miss you too, Bella. I'd love to see you but I don't know how permanent my address is right now," she said, her voice breaking up. She was using her cellphone. "A lot of things are happening right now, and Phil and I might have to move. It's probably better if you have a secure place to stay."

"I understand," I said, but I meant I _don't_ understand.

I wanted to tell her about it—the truth. I wanted her to know how afraid I'd been, how uncertain I was now. Things were better now, maybe, but nothing was certain. I was a bag of blood to Edward—meat sitting cooked on a plate. It was such an easy line to cross; being his girlfriend or his lunch wasn't a decision, it was based on Edward's impulses. Alice said she was on my side, and I felt that she was—but she was on Edward's side first. She wanted his happiness, and if things every stopped being _different_ between us, he could decide he was better off killing me, instead of struggling, and rediscovering his humanity later.

"We can talk about this later, okay?" Mom said. "I've got to go. Goodnight, hon."

I didn't even have time to blurt out one syllable before I heard the click. She'd hung up.

I slammed the phone into the charger. I dashed to my room and shut the door, careful not to slam it so I wouldn't alert my dad.

Dad.

Edward said he wanted me to live; he wanted to be on my side. So why _shouldn't_ I tell my dad? If Edward really wanted to be the good guy, he wouldn't freak out. He'd trust me. He'd let me have the right to tell my father.

I zoomed out of my room, knocked on Dad's open door. He had a dry towel hung over his arm. Seeing me, breathless and energized, he set the towel down on his bed and faced me squarely.

"Is something wrong, Bella?" he asked.

"I have something to tell you."

He stared at me, uncertain, worried, and unmoving for a moment. He looked around uneasily, and then decided to back up and sit in his bed. "Okay. Shoot."

"I…"

Dad eyebrows shot up. He was anxious that I was about to tell him some terribly epic thing, which had been my original idea…but…

I couldn't do it. I could not tell my father that vampires existed, that I had a vampire boyfriend, that I'd skipped class to chat with the vampire sister, and that I had a terrible feeling, a _definite_ feeling, telling me I wasn't going to survive this—that I would be facing death much sooner than either of us wanted.

I'd have to edit. Maybe one day I could do it, but I wasn't ready to tell it, and Dad wasn't ready to hear it. I'd have to give him little bits at a time.

"I have a few things to say, that I lied to you about," I confessed. I entwined my fingers nervously, and took a small step toward him.

Dad crossed his arm. He went from anxious to angry and worried in two seconds. His thick, bushy eyebrows pushed downward, his forehead wrinkling.

"First I should say that I lied because I was afraid," I admitted, sitting down beside him, eyes on my knees. "I was afraid because of it and afraid because I didn't want to worry you."

Dad, slowly, unused to the action, put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. "You can tell me anything, Bella. You know that, don't you?"

I closed my eyes and shakily drew in air. I knew it, but I didn't know it enough. I had to test out his reactions first, to see how much I could spill out.

"When I went to Port Angeles, I got separated from Angela and Jess, and something happened," I began; shuddering as I remembered that evening that changed everything. "I was going to meet them—I was in the library and they went ahead to the restaurant. And don't blame them, I told them to go ahead."

"I wasn't going to blame your friends," he promised, but the emotion had already shown through his eyes. I'd warned him something had happened, and he was already afraid of what could happen to me when I was alone.

"I made the unfortunate mistake of running into these guys, who…thought I was someone else."

My voice was quieter, lower. I wanted to make it easier for both of us, if there was any way. I told him the story, told him that they'd tried to drag me away, about the photo, about how I was sure I was going to die. Tears showed in his eyes, but his expression didn't change. He knew I was sitting there, alive, and laughing with him not long ago, I'd survived so that comforted him.

"I lied when I said I wasn't sure when Edward and I became friends," I admitted, "Because I wouldn't be alive if he hadn't found me. Before that day, I'd always thought he was scary—and I guess it was because he gave off that aura…"

"Aura?" Dad blinked, and then wiped the small drops as they fell from the corners of his eyes.

"The aura of someone who knows karate," I decided abruptly. I'd seen Mr. Miyagi enough times to know that he could have rescued me just as easily as Edward.

"Oh." Dad blinked again. He'd seen _The Karate Kid_ with me seven times. He also knew the miracle of karate.

"Edward saved my life, Dad," I said. "He's also the only one, besides you, who knows I was almost…" Somehow I could make myself say it, the word…murdered, killed, gone…not in front of my dad.

Dad embraced me tightly. His arms were so big around me. The last time he'd held me so tightly, I'd been so little that his arms were like a giant's, and warm. Not a lot had changed, except that now I hugged him back, and my arm's fit around him.

"I'm okay, Dad," I whispered.

"I wish you could have told me sooner," he said, his voice coming from over my shoulder. "You can come to me when you're scared, when anything happens, I'll listen."

"I couldn't right away, I couldn't talk about it," I said, hugging him tighter. "I was ready today."

He pulled back and kissed my forehead. "Thank you for telling me."

I nodded, keeping my chin down. I wiped under my eyes. It was wet. Had I really been about to cry? I guess I wasn't over it yet. I wondered if Daniel ever cried about getting beat up the time Miyagi saved him, even when time had passed.

"There's another thing."

Dad's eyes went wide.

"Not another bad thing," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder, steadying him in case my news gave him a heart attack.

He raised his eyes to the heavens and then looked back to me. "I'm happy to hear it."

"Edward and I are dating," I blurted. I held my breath and watched dad carefully for signs of a stroke.

Dad was stronger than that. His eyes went wide for a second, but then he looked down, through the floor, maybe lowering his eyes to hell to see if there was a plaque with Edward's name on it down there. Dad seemed to consider carving one for him, but then he remembered my first news of the day.

"When did this happen?" His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat.

"Today." Finally I could give him a completely honest answer, not even a tweaked detail. "He made it official that he wants to date me."

Dad bobbed his head and put his hand over mine. "That's fine with me. If he saved your life I think he's earned the right to take you on a date." He cleared his throat again. "But you don't have to feel obligated because he helped you—he's earned my approval for a date, but that's it. So, only do what you want to do, what feels right for you."

I exhaled, a sign of the teaspoon of relief now added to my life. I'd been worried about his reaction. At least I'd explained the good parts of Edward. The bad parts were more difficult to explain, but I'd get there. Someday.

I kissed Dad's cheek. "Thanks, Dad, for understanding." I stood. "And for, you know, listening, to everything."

"I'll always listen, Bella," he promised.

I gave him a second hug. I couldn't resist. "I love you, Dad."

He cleared his throat again. It was too much emotion for him at once. "Love you too, Bell."

I shoved my hands in my back pockets and headed for the door. "Goodnight, Dad."

"Bella, wait."

I paused and leaned my back against the doorframe.

"If you need to talk about this more…" He waved his hand around, unsure how to name it, my frightening experience. "I have time to talk. Or if you want someone else to talk about it with…?"

I raised my hands. "I'm good. I swear. I feel better just telling you."

"I guess you're not going to Port…"—he seemed uneasy saying the name—"Angeles…"

"Not for a while," I agreed. "But not never ever again. If I go, I'll go during daylight hours, and stick with large groups of familiar faces."

He stuck his thumb up and pressed his lips together. "Good plan. Use the buddy system."

I rolled my eyes. "Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, Bella."

I went to my room and shut the door. I stared at my window. I thought I'd closed it, but it was open. I crossed the room and shut the frame, pulling the curtains over the glass. I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time, just relishing in feeling that I'd been honest for once, almost like I had nothing to hide. I knew there were still some things kept secret, but I wasn't so afraid now that Dad knew part of the truth. I'd have to work on slipping the rest of it into casual conversation.

"_Hey, Bella, pass the milk."_

"_Certainly! Here you go. Oh, and Dad, Edward's a vampire—now can you hand me a spoon? My cereal is getting soggy."_

"_Why certainly, Bella, I'd be glad to—wait, did you say vampire?"_

"_Yes, I did, Dad." _

"_Thanks for telling me, Bella; I am so proud of you. Here's a spoon for you."_

"_Thanks, Dad."_

"_You're very welcome, Bella. I am just darn glad we can be so open and honest about everything."_

"_By the way, I also skipped class the other day."_

"_Vampire boyfriends I can tolerate, Bella, but I better not hear about you skipping class again. Do we have a deal?"_

I had a strong feeling it would never happen like that.

I hopped to my feet and got ready for bed. I untangled pins from my hair, brushed my teeth, and washed my face until I thought it would sparkle like Rosalie's in the morning. I hopped into bed with my latest Anna Godbersen novel, _Splendor_, and tucked myself under the covers. I was too awake and optimistically charged to sleep just yet, so a few chapters of late 1800s socialites, scandals, and star-crossed lovers would focus my brain enough to calm me down.

I read until my eyes were like skinned apples that had been under the mid-summer sun for hours. I clapped the pages closed, clicked off the light, and rolled onto my side; mind settled enough to forget yesterday's dramas and tomorrow's problems.

My conscious mind had forgotten, but that didn't prevent the dreaming. This time when Edward taunted me, I wasn't as afraid. This time, when he told me there was no escape for me, I said there was no escape for him either. And that made the dream wither away, leaving the rest of the night dreamless, without nightmares. I woke more rested than the night before. Round two of my cheerful mood had begun.

* * *

><p>Edward arrived on time. He was stealthy too. I had been watching my window so I'd watch him pull up, but I'd looked away for a moment and he was there.<p>

I didn't hesitate to get in the car. I didn't question him about wanting to drive me or talk to me. When he said he wanted to know more about me, I let him begin a whirlwind round of questions.

His first question was more like a command. He wanted my cellphone number. I was worried he'd turn into a text-stalker, but I gave it to him anyway. I was surprised when he didn't write it down or put it in his phone, but then I realized he'd already had the number, but wanted me to give it to him, to prove there was trust between us. At least now I knew he had it.

His next questions came like rapid fire, a machine gun loaded with questions.

_When was my birthday…?_

"September 13th. Yes, you missed it. You'll get over it. Next question."

_What was my favourite colour…?_

"Today it's blue." It was the colour of the shirt I was wearing, pale and soft. "It's usually blue, but it changes. Sometimes it's red."

_What was my favourite subject…?_

"English most days, but Biology has been my favourite before, until a certain grumpy bloodsucker dampened the mood."

_Did I have a least favourite subject?_

"It depends on how much homework the teacher gives that day."

_Which teachers did I hate, and which did I like? _

"Need I repeat myself? It depends on how much homework the teacher gives that day."

_Did I have a favourite season? _

"Tough one. Depends on the weather. In Forks, it's all the same. It's always rainy season. But elsewhere…" I shrugged. "I like autumn. Leaves changing colour, the crunch of them under my feet, the dying bugs that aren't around to sting me or the ants that like to crawl over everything…If only the heat of summer, and the falling leaves, and lack of infinite insects could combine into one season. That would be ideal."

_Did I follow any TV shows?_

"Duh. _Ringer_ has Sarah Michelle Gellar. I'm not about to miss that. Twin things have always fascinated me. I wanted a twin when I was…" I blushed. "You don't need to know that. Just know I grew up in the era of Mary-Kate and Ashley and _The Parent Trap_. So it's perfectly reasonable."

_So, reality shows weren't interesting to me?_

"I have my own craziness to watch out for. I don't need to know about their craziness. The only reality show that was ever any good once was_ Survivor_. I stopped watching it though. Too much drama and plotting—its like everyone thinks they're a modern day Hamlet. Bodies everywhere."

_What were my plans after graduation?_

"Crap. You had to ask that one, huh? I know we should start knowing what we're going to be at this age, but I'm clueless. I just know I want to be…" I couldn't say 'happy', the seemed like such a plain and dull goal, especially since he'd probably lived a couple glorious careers in his time. "I want to be successful, not necessarily just money. Probably something to do with literature, maybe I'll be a teacher and will be doomed to return to high school, just like a vampire."

I answered these questioned without hesitation. It was easy; they were perfectly normal questions to ask.

Edward quizzed me the entire day. Even in the moments that our different class schedules split us apart, I could almost hear his voice vibrating in my brain, skimming through my thoughts to gather more information. I wondered if all this information made him a better hunter or a better protector.

Today Alice and Edward sat with me at lunch. They alternated in the questions they asked. Edward's questions became increasingly personal, and Alice's…went the opposite direction.

"What flowers do you prefer?" Edward asked, leaning much too close across the table.

"None," I said. "I don't like the smell. Sometimes I think I might be allergic."

"Do you like dinosaurs?" Alice asked, also leaning much too close across the table. She mimicked Edward' expression, serious, somber, the world is ending and your answers are the key to saving us all.

"Do you have a favourite holiday?"

I scrunched my nose and pushed my chair back, metal scraping against the linoleum floor. The hitch pitched screeched made Alice and Edward flinch. Good to know that vampires seemed to dislike screechy noises.

"I like holidays in general," I said, balancing onto the hind legs of the chair. "Can't go wrong with Christmas, the presents. But my favourite?" I shrugged. "It depends on who's cooking. Probably a tie between Thanksgiving and Christmas."

"Do you think rhinestones are a ridiculous fashion accessory?" Alice's eyes narrowed and her lips pouted.

My eyes popped. Had I seriously been asked about fashion? I knew nothing. So I shrugged.

Alice shook her head. "I expected more of you, Bella."

"Fine. I like rhinestones."

Alice's head fell back and she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. She snapped forward in an instant, too quick for my eyes to follow. I jumped back; nearly causing my chair to topple over, except Edward's arms steadied my chair.

"I expected more of you, Bella," Alice repeated. "Why use rhinestones when you can use diamonds?"

"Because I'm poor," I told her. "And compared to your ideals of fashion, so is most of the world. Rhinestones are the smarter choice. Because who really cares if a rhinestone falls of your shirt? No one. But a diamond…?"

Alice put a finger to her chin, stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, and then nodded once. "I see your point. Alright, you have redeemed yourself."

I would never understand her completely. Alice lived in a completely different world.

Edward, standing behind me now, since steadying my chair, slid his hand over my shoulder. He held his palm out in front of me just as the bell rung. He was offering to help me up.

He was so old-fashioned.

It was typical that only a vampire would have the same qualities of my dream guy.

Alice joined us on the drive home. Again she added her own twisted questions to the mix. Edward asked about the music I liked, Alice asked if I had a favourite vegetable. Edward asked about my short-lived interest in various musical instruments in my childhood, Alice asked what was the greatest amount of money I'd found laying on the sidewalk. (I said a quarter; she said three hundred dollars. Which lead into Edward presenting me with various questions about my morality. What would I do if _I_ found three hundred dollars? Easy. Try to return it. Bring it to a police station.)

"So, we're here," I said, tapping on the window. Once again Edward had parked outside my house, giving me the option to get out, but trying to brainwash me into staying. His eyes were hypnotizing spirals of amber. "I assume I'll be expecting you same time tomorrow?"

He inclined his head, suppressing a smirk. "Of course."

"I think I'll be here too," Alice decided, her head bouncing like a bobble-head doll.

Edward's eyes shot up to the rearview mirror. Malice. Pure malice. Threats of death and Doomsday filled his eyes. A tense line formed under his eyes, accentuating the dark circles there. Alice only giggled. If the world was ever really ending, I decided I'd spend my last moment with her. She was fearless.

"My dad's going to be home soon," I noted, glancing at the time on my cellphone. I popped open the door.

"Edward," Alice said. She sounded ten years older.

My eyes shot to the backseat. Instead of possessing the personality of a bubbly fairy preteen, Alice's eyes had the presence of a forty year old. Not in the aged way, but in a way that was so uncharacteristically serious, knowing. She wore no smile; her eyes were fixed ahead, the horizon of the road ahead of us. Her eyes flickered to meet mine. Her chin tilted up and she looked down at me, uneasiness in her downturned lips.

"Interesting friends you have, Bella," she said.

Edward started up the engine again. "Goodnight, Bella."

I put one foot out of the car and curled my hand around the door latch. I was torn between staying inside to question why the both of them were reacting so sourly suddenly, and then there was the thought of getting trapped in the car and driver off to the vampire's lair.

"What's wrong?" I demanded. "Why the freak-out?"

"A complication," Edward said. He sighed and shot me a mean look, so cold that it was like an icicle stabbed my chest. "Are you getting out?"

I nodded and stepped out. I slammed the door with all my strength. I watched Edward's eyes turn away from me, the car racing away. For a second I'd thought I'd seen regret.

Regret that he had looked at me that way, but…that was probably wishful thinking. When he'd looked at Alice with murderous intent I'd known it was only a tease. The way he'd looked at me, he seemed a split second away from picking me up by the throat and throwing me out of the car.

Alice was strange, but it was easy to forget she was anything more than a peculiar human. Edward would never let me forget.

A small black car putted up the road. My eyes followed it as the wheels turned into the curb, at the end of my driveway. The two men in the front were unrecognizable at first, but as the driver's side door opened I knew him right away.

"Hey, Bella," Jacob called. He waved and pressed the door closed.

"Hi…Jacob…" I looked down the road where Edward's car had taken. He had passed by Jacob and…and Jacob's much older passenger. Was this the complication?

Jacob went around the car, pulled out a wheelchair from the backseat. The passenger door opened. Jacob helped the older man into the wheelchair.

I studied his face, wrinkled and broad, with long braided hair, russet skin, a long scar on his arm just above the wrist, and the purest black eyes. There was memory in those eyes that I couldn't begin to guess at. Generations of memory, and generations of judgment—which was all focused on me.

This was Billy Black. This was Jacob's father. I could see the same nose, and I could see remnants of a man who had probably been strong and handsome—the same as Jacob. I could see in his eyes a time when he would have laughed at the thought of someone with all his strength and spirit being bound in a wheelchair.

Billy's eyes threaded over my face and then moved slowly to the road, his eyes showing how carefully he had followed Edward's car. His eyes found me again; his lips pressed tightly, his chin jutted upward. He saw my shock and he knew that we were both aware of exactly what was going on.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES:<p>

Okay. Long chapter. I said I was going to get this posted earlier but... Sadly, I actually had a life this weeked. So, again, sadly, I decided to have fun instead of write this.

I am sick of staring at this chapter so I am saying to hell with it, I SHALL POST YOU NOW! And...here it is. But honestly, this chapter was making my head spin and my eyes roll back in my head and then a priest came in and said I was possessed. There was Latin involved. A big mess.

It was then that I decided there was no good way to write this chapter. I hope you think it turned out all right, but I understand if this isn't my best. NEXT TIME IT SHALL BE BETTER. I SWEAR IT!

Review. Thanks. Peace out.


	13. Chapter 12: Balancing

_12. BALANCING_

"BILLY!" [DAD] SAID AS SOON AS HE GOT OUT OF THE CAR. He'd rolled onto the driveway shortly after Jacob and Billy had, but not so shortly after that he'd noticed Edward leave. Thankfully he'd come in from the opposite direction that Edward had left.

It was like a puzzle in my mind. Just a few shifts in time and they would have all met each other. Dad would give Edward a disapproving look, Billy would give Edward a look of terror (or maybe hatred, it wasn't clear yet), Edward would look at me with murderous intent, and I would look at Alice hoping she'd be willing to console me.

"I'm glad you could make it after all," Dad said, loosening the top buttons of his uniform.

"Between the two of us, you have the bigger screen," Billy countered, leaning forward slightly in his chair. "Of course I could make it."

Dad and Billy laughed in a way only old friends could, familiar laughter, the kind that shook out all worries from their bodies. For a moment, Billy seemed to forget all about me and my, ahem, guest.

"Good to see you too, Jacob," Dad said, clapping Jacob on the shoulder.

Since Jacob didn't seem to mind, I gathered that Jacob really was as familiar with my dad as he'd let on earlier. Billy and Dad were brothers from other mothers.

"You too, sir," Jacob said. His eyes flashed to meet mine.

His eyes made me smile.

Jacob wasn't good at being subtle. He rolled back onto his heels, hands stuffed into his jean pockets, chin tilted up, and then a slight sideways nod.

"The TV is inside, Dad," I reported. "So you're welcome to go inside."

Dad's laughter told me he was torn between chastising me for being cheeky and thanking me for reminding him. The pre-game stuff would probably be on soon, and Dad hated to miss that.

"You just get home from school, Bella?" Dad asked, pausing behind Billy as he faced himself toward the doorway.

I nodded once. I didn't want to give any more details, in case his was suspicious. He would be very disappointed if my class skipping was revealed. In a way, I was grateful for Billy's appearance. It was a distraction.

And something clued in very early on. If Billy knew the truth about the Cullens—and maybe my speculation from the dirty looks was wrong, but maybe not—and since Billy and Dad seemed to be good friends…was it possible Dad already knew? Could I tell Dad the truth without the fear of being laughed at or put in an asylum? It was a promising scenario, but I tried not to get my hopes up. It wasn't clear whose side Billy was on.

Dad and Billy disappeared inside the house. Jacob and I loitered at the bottom of the driveway, me with my eyes on the pavement and he with his eyes on me.

"Bella," he said.

I raised my head. He grinned, like I'd given him a cookie.

"Hi," he said.

I rolled my eyes and swallowed a laugh. "Hi," I echoed. "So I guess we meet again."

"Nothing wrong with that," he said without confidence. Any less confidence and it would be a question.

"Of course not." I allowed him another cookie. "After all, I'm your sidekick, remember?"

He rolled his eyes now and laughed, averting his eyes. His face brightened, the shade becoming pinker.

"It would be weird if we didn't meet up every once in a while," I continued. "If you want, you're welcome to come into my secret headquarters,"—I waved my arm in a sweeping motion toward my front door—"it's kind a like _Ghostbusters_ HQ. We even have a giant vacuum."

I started backing toward the house, Jacob following me like our feet were attached with sticks, only able to move when the other moved.

"A giant vacuum?" Jacob raised a brow.

"It's really old school so it's big and not easy to hide in the closet," I explained. "Sometimes it encourages us to use it, but mostly it's heavy and hard to wheel around. We need a new one."

"Charlie isn't the type to get something new until the old one is broken," Jacob said.

"Yeah, and even then sometimes he tries to fix it," I said. I skipped up to the front door. It was already left open ajar, so I pushed it open. "Sometimes he keeps it even if it's unfixable."

"Packrat?" Jacob suggested.

"You have no idea," I whispered. I peered around the corner and thankfully Dad wasn't close enough to hear the gossip. "I'm just content that he isn't the crazy kind that ends up on Dr. Phil."

"I'm just content Bella isn't the crazy kind of daughter that ends up on Dr. Phil, most days," Dad shouted from the living room.

"I think he heard you," Jake said, his teeth gleaming.

"You think?" I said docking my head to the side.

I closed the door after Jacob. We stood in the foyer for a moment too long in silence, our smiles desperately clinging to our faces in an attempt to disguise the silence as something better. But we weren't Billy and my dad. We were only Jacob and Bella, so our laughter meant little more than two people trying to connect, so close a breath would shift the connection into the perfect place, but not quite there yet.

Well, that's what I saw. Jacob's eyes said he felt different, that our lives were much more entwined than I could possibly predict.

For a moment his eyes, begging me to connect deeper with him, almost tricked me into spitting out the words 'I had a dream about you'. Instead my teeth dug into my bottom lip, biting the smile from my face.

I couldn't tell Jacob that. Not only was it a way weird conversation to have—considering we'd only spoken once before—but also honestly it wasn't completely true. The dream had featured him, but it was definitely _about_ Edward. My dreams would always be about Edward.

"How goes your vampire issues," Jacob asked.

I winced. Of all the icebreakers in the world, he chose that one? I feigned a victorious grin. "Never better." It was the truth, so the smile got easier to wear. "You just have to appeal to their better natures."

Jacob raised a brow and laughed awkwardly. He sensed too much truth in my statement, and it worried him that I wasn't joking.

"Where do you go to school, Jake?" I asked narrowing my eyes. Had he told me and I'd forgotten? I was realizing I really didn't know him very well, for someone who had tried so often in my dreams to run away with me.

"On the reserve," he answered. His expression was flat. It gave the impression he might have told me before, and was disappointed that I'd forgotten so easily, when it was clear he remembered everything about me.

Was I in danger of creating another stalker? I hoped not.

"Hm."

Jake's eyes widened. "Hm? That's all I get?"

I shrugged. "I thought about 'Oh, I see,' but it sounded dated."

"And lame," he added.

"And lame," I agreed.

Our laughter synched. This time we were connected.

The strange thing about Jacob was that it was easy. I wasn't worried about messing up in front of him.

I'd _always_ been bad at connecting—well, on the inside, even if it wasn't always obvious on the outside. I had to force myself to relate to them. But two very different people had made me feel that it wasn't my lack of trying, it was my lack of meeting the right people yet.

Jacob Black and Edward Cullen. How had that happened?

Now that I'd fallen into step, Jacob and I were like mixing water and water. I didn't notice the time slip by. I heard the roar of an on-screen crowd in the living room, the constant commentary from Dad and Billy, and the quieter commentary from the announcers. Jake and I talked just about the same things Edward had drilled me about all day, except the answers weren't dragged out of me. I wanted to tell. And it wasn't just me providing answers to a questionnaire, because Jacob had a life without secrets he was willing to share with me.

After a few exchanges about my most klutzy moments (including the time I broke my toe getting out of bed) Jacob's shared stories about some miscommunications. (It involved a prank going too far, and a friend's ass glued to a car seat…. He even had to sleep in the car for the night…and he had legs cramps…and he was not happy).

I caught sight of the time on the microwave. It was ten o'clock. The game had ended. Billy and Dad were making their way to the front door. Jake and I stood from the kitchen table and, giving each other laughing glances, followed the adults to the door.

Dad's eyes fell on the old black car Jake had driven here. He whistled. "I am surprised that thing survived the drive up here."

"Don't judge by appearances," Jake said, "its lifespan has been recently renewed."

"Jake's been fixing it up," Billy said, clapping his son on the back.

Apparently that was a guy thing to do. Or maybe it was just something Billy and my dad did.

"Billy's mentioned before, all the hours of work you put in," Dad said, his head high like Jake was his own son, a shared son with Billy, like maybe dad had absorbed their family as part of him so he wasn't so alone.

"Has Jake mentioned he's a whiz mechanic?" Dad asked, his eyes targeting me. He was clearly favoring his shared son as my match over Edward.

I nodded. "More than once. In theory I'm impressed, but this is the first time I've had evidence of his handiwork."

"Mind if I take a look?" Dad asked. He'd once tried to take up mechanics as a hobby. It didn't work out. The man didn't have much skill, but he enjoyed pretending he did.

"Sure thing," Jake said, taking dad to the front and popping it to reveal the engine gleaming with grease and manliness. I applauded female mechanics and all, but, to me, cars were overtly masculine.

"Bella." Billy's voice was low, tense, trying not to draw any attention. "Mind if we speak for a moment?"

Reluctantly, I turned to face him.

His eyes had narrowed, but he didn't have that same mean look as before. This was concern—his best friend's daughter was involved with vampires.

"I noticed the Cullens drive away," he said. His chin raised sharply, eyes darting to the road.

I didn't say anything. It's not like I could deny it, say it was a trick of the light.

"I don't know how familiar you are with their family," he said, not even trying to be subtle, "but before you get too involved there are things you should know about them."

"You don't need to beat around the bush, Billy," I said.

I couldn't believe I was about to discuss this with a human—a human who knew the same truth I did, without needing to leave out details…but…was I really willing to trust him? Something about him being Jake's dad and my dad's friend made it hard to dispute.

"You…know what they are?" His face stiffened, his eyes drained of the facade of our conversation being casual. He hung his head and inhaled deeply, very deeply.

"I didn't have much of a choice."

Billy exhaled, shaking his head. "Getting involves with them is dangerous, Bella. It is a concern—"

"I don't know how much you know about them either," I interrupted, struggling to not let the frustration and determination raise the volume of my voice. I glanced quickly behind, relieved that Jake and dad were too distracted to notice Billy and I with paled faces and widened eyes.

"They aren't evil," I insisted. "And I know I can't trust them completely. Not now."

"Not ever," Billy corrected.

"Not _now_." My eyebrows drew together. "I have no choice but to hope their better natures win out."

Billy's head turned, but before her could shake his head or shout at me, he froze. "You have no choice?" His voice had lifted an octave. He too carefully listened to my words. His eyebrows struck down angrily, his hands gripping his wheels tightly. "Bella, if you've been threatened, they—"

"It's okay!" I raised my hands to stop him. "There were some problems, but I'm working to fix them."

His grip loosened. He still looked ready to take a cheese grater to Edward's entire family. "The problems involving the Cold Ones never go away. Never get _fixed_." He leaned forward an inch, his voice barely a murmur. "Immortal monsters, Bella, undying. So the problems they cause are undying also." Gently, he grabbed my wrist. "You alone cannot protect yourself from their thirst."

I slipped my wrist out of his grip and laid my palm on his shoulder. "I'm not the only one protecting myself from their _thirst_."

His eyebrows shot up. Billy leaned back and stared at me with a single question plastered on his weary face.

"I think Cold Ones know best how to defend against themselves," I answered.

His eyebrows flattened, his chin fell. For a long moment, it seemed like he'd never move again, maybe appoint himself as a guardian at my front door. Heavy air escaped his lungs, making spinning smoke appear in front of him, the warmth meeting the cold night.

"How long before their true nature defeats their good intentions, Bella?" Billy's voice was rough, unconvinced.

"The timing isn't what worries me, Billy," I confessed. "It's what he decides _is_ his true nature."

Jake's voice called out Billy's name. Dad was halfway up the driveway.

Billy's head shot up. He spoke quickly and quietly. "My ancestors made a deal with these Cold Ones, the Cullens," he spoke, his eyes shifting between my face and my dad's slow steps toward us. "All of their kind has an unnatural darkness within them, but the Cullens…have strong hearts." He leaned a little closer, and I bowed down to hear him.

"If there is any chance that something evil can become good,"—Billy laid his hand on my arm, his eyes desperately seeking hope in my widened, teary eyes—"you'd find it in _them_."

Billy's hand fell away. He wheeled away to meet Dad, and together they went to the curb. Dad helped Billy into the car. Jake waved me goodnight before driving away. Dad shouted something about watching the speed limit, and before he could turn around I was already inside, halfway up the staircase.

Later, Dad tried to interrogate me about what I thought of Jacob. I was too distracted wading in my own thoughts to give him more than one-word responses. So he kissed my forehead and bid me goodnight, unaware that he was Capulet attempting to marry Juliet to Paris.

It was midnight when I realized I wasn't going to get much sleep. An icy wind pushed past my curtains and twisted into the room, a cold stroke on my face. I shot out of bed and went to my bookshelf. My fingers patted over the spines until I found the title I was looking for. I peeled back the thin cover and searched my bleary eyes over the passages until I found the words. Juliet's speech.

_What's in a name? That which we call a rose_

_By any other name would smell as sweet;_

_So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,_

_Retain that dear perfection which he owes_

_Without that title. Romeo, doff they name;_

_And for that name, which is no part of thee,_

_Take all myself._

I'd convinced myself that I'd made a decision, but secretly I had been second-guessing myself. Because the truth was, I had never trusted anyone. Not one single person, not with the whole truth, only shadows and pieces. And now…

_So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd…_

How different would our story be if I had met an Edward who wasn't a vampire? Would I have accepted this feeling sooner?

Maybe I was foolish for even thinking about it. _Because_ Edward was a vampire we'd met, and there was no other story.

I shoved the book onto my shelf and went to the window, my hands pausing on the frame. I leaned my elbows in the frame and watched the empty street.

"Thou art thy self, and not a Montague," I whispered, closing my eyes and imagining fair Verona and the garden outside Juliet's room. I held back my hair as the wind and rain tried to attack it in my less sunny balcony scene. "Thou art thy _self_, and not a vampire."

My mind wasn't settled yet, but I couldn't stand any longer, I was already hanging onto the window frame with my eyes closed. I padded across the floor and crawled into bed.

For a moment I thought I heard the wind whispering it, or maybe it was my tired brain revisiting my memories of a recorded version of the play I'd watched. But the sound echoed in my ears as I became less and less aware of my body lying in my bed.

"I take thee at thy word," he said. "Henceforth I will never be Romeo."

So if Edward…_were he not vampire call'd_…

For a moment I thought it wasn't just the wind that brushed my hair from my cheek. I was trapped in the world between awake and dreaming, and in that world I was, for a moment, both Bella and Juliet, and it was my turn to speak. What was my line again?

_Take all myself_.

* * *

><p>I awoke with a massive headache. Visions of men in tights and sleeves puffier than those dawned in the 80s had filled my dreams. Edward had still featured in the dream, but I had a strange feeling that Leonardo DiCaprio also had a leading role.<p>

Edward saw my expression of absolute teen angst and he didn't say a word until we'd pulled away from the curb, probably hoping I wouldn't jump out and murder myself to eliminate the headache.

"You didn't sleep well," he said.

"You need to learn to turn your statements into questions," I crooned, forcing my most sarcastic smile to grow on my lips. "Friendly inquiries, not assumptions. People will like you better. People like me."

"You…"—his eyebrows pushed together tensely, his voice shaking for a second—"didn't sleep _well?_"

I stared at him, not amused. The question mark in his dialogue had been far too pronounced. No one would believe that was natural.

"I'll give you points for trying," I mumbled groggily, crunching back in the seat. "And no. I didn't sleep well."

"Neither did I."

"Coffin needs more cushions?"

"No."

My eyes shifted to the rearview mirror. Alice wasn't in the backseat. "Alice?"

"She…said you'd have something to tell me," he admitted with a shrug.

"Oh."

Alice saw too much. I wondered if there was a Visine® for that?

"So you didn't sleep well. Tell me about it," I said with a Cheshire cat grin.

"You're deflecting." Edward's frown was stern.

"It's not something to say _now_," I grumbled.

Edward's hands shifted around the wheel. He inhaled slowly, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the wheel. He closed his eyes and moment, exhaled sharply and looked at me.

"When?"

I went through my mental calendar. "I have no plans this…Saturday?"

"Saturday," he agreed determinedly.

"I should warn you, I'm planning a really intense sit-down." I gave him a sample of my best 'the battle for Middle-Earth is tomorrow' face. The unrelenting headache made it more angry than fearsome.

"I understand."

"I mean a real heart to heart extraordinaire superb," I ranted; widening my arms to measure the magnitude of the conversation I planned to have. "Nations may fall or rise depending entirely on my speech."

"Then I should prepare myself," he teased, but his eyes were hot and dark, like a flame in the blackest pit of the deepest cave. He gave only a taste of what he was really feeling.

"I should do that too," I agreed. "I think I need to write it out."

I slipped a blue pen out from my bag, uncapped it, and began making a list on my palm. Edward tried to peek, but I tilted my hand back so that the shadows blocked him.

"Would you object to us being alone together?"

I capped the pen. "What is it exactly you think we're doing now?"

"No," he said, tone muted, eyes averting my face. "I meant to ask if spending time with you this Saturday…"—his eyes turned on me, a shade closer to caramel than amber—"could be a date."

My lungs sucked in rapidly. I turned my eyes to the window. "I…we need to have a talk, and that's more important than—"

"Is there a reason it can't be both?" he asked.

The parking lot was in sight. I shook my head and dropped my gaze to the bright blue scribbles on my hand.

"You have to swear that you won't run away and you'll actually listen to me, start to finish," I bargained. I curled my hand into a fist and put the pen away. "Then it can be both."

I looked over to see Edward grinning as bright as 4th of July fireworks. For a second, but then the smile faltered. He parked in a spot close to the entrance, where Alice was already waiting for us. She drummed her hands on the hood and then skipped over to my door. She yanked it open, took me by the hand and tugged me to my feet.

"Congratulations!" she cheered. She threw her arms up in the air, and then hugged me. "Your first official date with Edward!"

We needed to get Alice a leash.

"He's the one who needs congratulations," I murmured as Alice released me. "Just look at him." I pointed with my thumb. "He looks really blue."

"It's because he can't spend the day with you," Alice explained, throwing her arm over my shoulder. "He needs to prepare."

Oh God. The image of Dr. Frankenstein's lab flashed in the front of my mind. The slab. Wires. Levers. Wind-up machines. Electric bolts. What exactly did Edward need to prepare?

"If he's going to be alone with you, and just you with no eyes monitoring him for unusual behaviour," Alice expanded, waving her hand in a small circle before skipping in front of me, pointing her finger at me. "Think about it. No one will be watching, so he can't be even the slightest bit thirsty, so you don't tempt him. In _that_ way, at least."

I rolled my eyes at the additive at the end. In _that_ way, because Alice seemed convinced that tempting him in any other way was a walk in the park.

"You're saying he needs to sate his hunger," I said. "Why does that mean not spending the day with me?"

"We have to go far," she answered. She nodded her head away from the school. "Our diet is conspicuous, so we don't hunt too close to home."

I sent a piercing stare in Edward's direction. "You have to go hunting just to spend a day alone with me?"

"Better safe than sorry," Alice squeaked merrily. "I'll come with."

"If I had known earlier"—Edward shot Alice an annoyed glance—"I wouldn't have given you a ride."

"That's right." I looked over the rows of cars. My big red chunkster wasn't there. I was doomed to walk. Probably in the rain.

"You're truck will be in this spot," Edward instructed, holding a hand over the hood of his own car.

Alice jingled something in front of my nose. She took my wrist and flipped my hand so my palm faced upward. She dropped keys onto my hand. It took a second to realize they were mine.

"I'm always one step ahead," Alice whispered, wagging an eyebrow at me. She giggled and zapped to Edward's side, wrapping her arm around his. "We'll talk later, Bella."

Alice jumped up on her toes and whispered into Edward's ear. I didn't like the looks of that. They were plotting against me.

"Trust issues?" Edward said quietly, worriedly, his eyes meeting mine.

I looked down at my palm, to the two words I'd scribbled next to the number 1. Alice was clever. She'd purposely chosen _that_ hand to drop my keys in. At least now I'd confirmed what I always knew. As his sister, Alice was on his side before she was on mine.

Alice put a finger to her mouth, smiling apologetically. "I thought it might motivate him to gulp down more lions, tigers, and bears. He's going to need it with that list."

I fisted my penned hand tighter. "Alice, don't you dare—"

"I only looked at the first, and ignored the rest," Alice swore, raising a hand, as if to swear over a Bible in court.

"The _rest_?" Edward's eyes went wide. He exhaled heavily. He now knew that the list was long. He had a lot to answer for.

Alice spun Edward around, waving him into the driver's seat.

"Alice," I called.

She stopped with one hand propping open the passenger door.

"How is my car going to get here if I have my keys?" I held out my keys, expecting her to take them back.

"I made an extra," she explained. She slid onto the seat, smooth as a snake, and shut the door.

Edward's body rocked with laughter as he drove away. Alice waved at me, smiling like she had the devil in her. They were definitely plotting against me. Next she'd tell me she'd made an extra house key so she and Edward could sneak in and bother me from time to time.

Suddenly the memory of my bedroom window opening mysteriously seemed much creepier than me simply forgetting to close it.

The morning went by quickly, much more quickly since I wasn't worried about Edward interrogating me in between classes. I actually had time to talk with my friends, and they seemed surprised that my boyfriend had allowed me to interact with them. Angie was convinced he was holding me hostage. I laughed, and hoped she wouldn't see the panic in my eyes. Angie was too sharp.

Edward wasn't holding me hostage in the way she was implying, but it was true that he wasn't letting me go. Today was my first day of freedom, and maybe the last, until I got him to get over his clinginess.

Hm. Clinginess. I added that to the list.

At lunch, I felt a rush of excitement when I was sandwiched between Angie and Jess. Mike spoke to me. Tyler spoke to me. I'd almost forgotten what their voices sounded like. I was being over dramatic, probably, but it felt strange to be around my friends again. Being with Edward was like being in another world.

Fifteen minutes into the lunch hour, I felt a tap on my shoulder. That wasn't that strange. It was the silence. Not just my friends, because they stared behind me with their mouths shut tight. The entire cafeteria was quieter. Not mute, but everyone spoke in normal voices, instead of the usual shouting over each other. They glanced my direction; needing to hear whatever the stranger behind me was about to say.

A quick look over my shoulder was enough to take in the mighty Aphrodite behind me. I almost crossed myself to beg God for mercy that she wouldn't kill me. Where was Edward when I needed him? Hell, even Alice would provide some protection.

Rosalie stared down at me, her mouth pouted—the hatred in her eyes made her seem demonic, despite her angelic features. Her golden hair glowed bright as ever, but her skin looked like it was covered in grey shadow.

"I need to speak with you," she said. Her voice was strong and determined but feminine. Everything about her was enviable.

Her eyes were dark brown today. She was thirsty. "Now."

Terror clutched at my throat, blocking my voice. I swallowed, but my throat was too dry. I nodded and rose from my chair. Rosalie spun, her hair waving out behind her like there was a momentary indoor breeze. Surely she had a team of hairstylists that met with her every morning and between classes. How else was her hair so perfect? I glanced down at mine. I think I saw a split end, or maybe it was just a frayed knot. I combed at it with my fingertips.

Rosalie's heels clacked against the ground. The quieted talk continued. I followed Rosalie out of the cafeteria into the hall. When the doors closed behind me the volume rose giddily. How they loved their gossip.

Rosalie didn't stop outside the doors. She led me to the girls' bathroom, checked the stalls, and then locked the bathroom door so no one could come in unexpectedly. I felt a little guilty for occupying the whole bathroom, but it wasn't my decision to make. Rosalie was a goddess and could do whatever they hell she wished—or so she seemed to think.

She leaned against the sink counter, finding the one spot that didn't have water dripping from it. Even leaning she was taller than me. She crossed her arms and stared icily at me.

"You know why I want to speak with you, Bella." She said my name in the strangest way, like we were competitors equal in an Olympic battle, but also like I was a rock stuck in the sole of her shoe. I was in her way, and in a way that she couldn't help but admire. I'd dug into her life deeply, without even trying.

"Edward is fascinated with you, Lord knows why." She wrinkled her nose for a second, her grin twisting upward. She turned her head and sighed lightly. "You should know that being what we are"—her eyes snapped to meet mine, narrowing—"blood is more important than breathing. I say that literally, because we don't need to breathe to live. We _need_ blood. We need blood like you need oxygen."

I didn't dare tell her Edward and Alice had told me just about everything. There was no arguing with Rosalie.

"Edward has now publicly shown that he has a relationship with you," she continued. She took a hand to her hand and brushed it over her shoulder, her hair sweeping back, exposing her cheek, which had the slightest amount of rosebud-pink blush. "So if he were to slip up, to give into his _need_, there would be questions. Some questions he can't answer, investigations _we'd_ have to run from, and if anyone starting putting two and two together the answer would be _quite_ apparent."

Now I felt I could argue with Rosalie. Edward was the one who couldn't stay away from me. He'd sought me out. He'd decided this. Sure, I'd accepted it, but it's not like there were a lot of options. This was the best course, so how could she blame me for steering down it?

"Your blood is more tempting to Edward than_ any_ human's blood in this world," Rosalie said, her voice softening, but her expression hardening. There was sympathy in her tone, and judgment in her wrinkled brow. "He can't resist you, Bella."

"I've heard all this before," I told her, more sharply than I'd intended, but it was frustrating to be talked down to like I was a child.

She straightened sharply, her heel clicking against the floor tile as she pounced forward. She bent her neck so that she could look down at me. She stood inches away—inches from squeezing her hands around my throat or shoving me through the wall. Her eyes were wide and burning with rage.

"You don't get how _dangerous_ you are." Her voice shook. "It isn't just your life that's at risk. It's all of ours."

I stepped back, hand reaching back until I found the stall door. I stopped there. Bathrooms were the worst places to be cornered in. There was no room to move.

"I don't blame Edward," she said through a tightened jaw, "he couldn't _help_ it. But it would have better for him to have killed you rather than let everyone see you two together."

I was afraid to ask if she thought that since Edward hadn't done it, it was up to her to fix his mistake. I gripped the scratched metal of the doorframe. I could hear voices pass by outside.

"I can't kill you now," she said, taking a sharp step back. She faced her reflection in the mirrors. "There isn't much anyone can do."

I inhaled shakily. I wasn't going to be killed. My life had nearly flashed before my eyes.

Rosalie leaned back against the counter again, facing me, fingers gripped over the edge. "I will say this. If you ever become too dangerous"—she raised her chin, her jaw still tight—"I won't hesitate. So I suggest you cooperate."

My hand slipped from the frame. I shook my head once, nose wrinkled and eyebrows pressed together. "I _have_ been cooperating," I said, my voice so close to shouting. My eyes shot quickly to the door, then back to her form, radiating with how much she despised me. "I don't understand why you're blaming _me_. I didn't try to seduce Edward with my blood. And I'm not trying to endanger your family. All I'm trying to do is stay alive!"

Rosalie's head tilted slightly to the side. Her jaw loosened.

"I don't know what it is you think I have the power to do," I muttered, eyes desperately searching hers for a sign that she wasn't as unrelentingly cruel as she sounded. "I'm the only one in this mess that has _no_ power. I'm just human, Rosalie."

"If I have to choose," she warned, brows knitting together, "I'll always choose my family over the life of a human."

I felt the blood drain from my face. Rosalie would never been on my side, would she? Edward was on my side. Alice was on my side. But my allies were limited. I wondered who else in her family would rather have me dead than living as a constant risk to their secret.

"If there's any way possible to spare your life, I will, Bella, I swear it." Her dark eyes traced over the fear in my face. She stepped forward, hand reaching toward me, but she pulled back.

What was that? One minute she was unfeeling, her presence murderous—and now she was looking at me like I was a child. Not to look down on me, but with the wish that I had never gotten involved. I was innocent.

"I protect my family first," she said, "but my grudge against you isn't personal, it's because you're a risk I'm not willing to allow."

I hung my head. She still hadn't answered what she expected me to do.

"If Edward ever has the strength to leave you, Bella," Rosalie said, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. "You have to promise me you'll tell him to go. It's better for both of you."

I lifted my head. Tell him to go? She wanted me to tell Edward to leave me alone? I _had_ tried that before…but…I had a feeling this meant something different. Edward's desire for my blood had pulled him to me, attached me to him. If there came a time when the desire weakened, could I tell him to run away from me and never look back?

"Promise," she insisted, her tone sharp.

"I promise," I whispered. "I won't hesitate."

Rosalie exhaled heavily, her eyes shooting up to the ceiling. She seemed to slump against the counter. The malice in her face melted. She returned to being the lithe beauty that wouldn't talk to anyone beneath her—and everyone was beneath her. She walked to the door, unlocked it and went out without a glance back at me.

I wondered if I'd ever have to keep that promise.

I wasn't sure how long I stayed in the bathroom. I stared into the mirror, watching the tears dissipate. The door swung open and I quickly wiped my eyes to make sure they were dry.

"Are you okay?" It was Angie, her face looked just as stunned as mine. "I saw Rosalie come back, and when you didn't…"

I'd thought I was the only one thinking I'd never return alive.

Angie, hesitantly, lifted her arms, stepped close for an awkward hug. "I was worried. She looked ready to murder you with her spiky shoes."

I knew Rosalie didn't need spiky shoes to murder me, her vampire strength was enough, but the thought had crossed my mind.

Angie held me at arm's length, her narrowed eyes scanning my face. "What did she want?"

"She didn't want me dating Edward," I confessed. "I guess I'm beneath her and a danger…to her family's standard, something like that. She thinks I'm not suitable."

Angie's lips cracked into a smirk. "Seriously?"

I shrugged. "I guess she's the overly protective big sister."

Angie shot a sideways glance at the mirrors. "Hm." She met my eyes again, grinning widely. "I'm torn between saying this is a good reason to break-up with him, or saying that this is a reason for me to encourage this, just to stick it to her."

I laughed at the thought of Rosalie scowling as Edward and I drove by at the head of a parade, the happy unbreakable couple. Angie laughed with me. The laughter chased away my tears. Angie took my arm and steered me out of the bathroom. It was a relief to escape the place of my interrogation. I would probably use the bathroom at the other end of the school from that day on.

"I kind of like the sound of that," I agreed. "I don't think I'd be proud of myself if Rosalie scared me away."

"Not exactly the best reason for a break-up," Angie said with more laughter. "She is one scary girl."

"You sounded like Jessica for a moment," I said, elbowing her gently.

"I did, didn't I?" Angie giggled. "Jess would be proud."

Angie didn't take me back to the cafeteria. I was grateful. There were a few reasons not to go back in there today. One was that Rosalie had gone back there. Two was that my schoolmates would probably interview me about my encounter with a pissed-off Venus. Three was that I couldn't take another Cullen pulling me aside to have a heart to heart.

The afternoon went smoothly, without any attempts from the Cullens to ambush me in Edward's absence. Angie invited me over to her house for a mash up of studying, a few skewed attempts at baking chocolate chip cookies, and more Rosalie bashing—with a brief interview about my current Edward thoughts.

My truck had been there after school, in the exact spot Edward's car had been in, and I had to admit that my relief had showed on my face. Even Angie had noticed. It was handy having the truck when Angie insisted I take a dozen half-burnt cookies home with me. Unfortunately it made the car smell like slightly burnt chocolate.

I offered Dad a chance to sample after supper. He inspected the charred bits closely, but ate it anyway. He said he preferred his cookies to be solid.

I spent an hour after dinner sifting through my clothes. My mother had been right. None of my clothes seemed worthy of Edward, not now that it was an official date. It raised the stakes.

Edward hadn't said what he planned to do with me on the date—was he a dinner and a movie type of guy? It was probably safer to skip the skirt and wear jeans. I had been looking forward to showing off my new skirt, but I didn't want to find out we were going for a jog or rock climbing. _God_ I hoped we weren't jogging or rock climbing. That was a bad idea for a first date.

After I'd picked out three shirts—one frilly and pale blue, one purple and loose, and one green with a low v-neck—I laid them out on my bed and stared them down. None of them budged. Every time I put two away, I dragged them back to my bed. Decisions involving what to wear were the worst.

I eventually went with the frilly. It was feminine, but didn't risk me bending over and accidentally gluing Edward's eyes to my chest. Then again, I'd already caught his staring at my neck and my bear wrists more than once. A negative, mocking voice in my head told me that arteries might be more seductive than breasts to Edward.

Was it a sad commentary on myself that as soon as I thought that, I switched to the green shirt with the dipping neckline? It probably was.

Oh well. I'd keep him from blood-lusting one way or another.

I was too excited, like electricity roaming inside my veins, to sleep. I logged onto Youtube and mindlessly watch the recommended videos. One made me laugh. (Oh, Nyan cat.) The rest were not amusing.

I thought I saw an owl outside my window.

Nope. Chuck Testa.

Nope. It was actually just the wind flapping the branches around. But I knew that I'd watched enough parodies to turn my brain to mush. It was time to attempt sleep.

* * *

><p>I woke up late. Really late; the tossing and turning had prevented me from falling asleep until five. Instead of hitting the snooze button, I accidentally turned my alarm off. It was eleven o'clock when I drowsily opened my eyes, looked at my clock, and leaped from bed like I'd had an electric poker shoved up my spine.<p>

I rushed to get ready. The quickest shower of my life was followed by a hasty job with the hair dryer. I ran down the stairs and hoped not to see a Volvo waiting at the end of the driveway. My foot touched the floor just in time to be directly across from the door when I heard a loud, hard knock.

Drats. No time for breakfast.

I opened the door and smiled like I hadn't jus come down the stairs, terrible late. He didn't buy it.

Edward walked inside without invitation. "Good morning, Bella."

"Good morning." I shut the door.

"Breakfast at noon," he said, his gleaming white teeth mocking me. He was wide-awake, bright, and eager—and I had washed sleep from my eyes moments ago, the feeling was still lingering. "Is this a typical Saturday for Bella Swan?"

"Not quite." I strolled into the kitchen keeping my back to him. My secret was out, so I made myself two slices of jam on toast. Edward watched me. It wasn't creepy until my mind made the comparison of colours—strawberry jam and blood. I wondered if Edward thought that way, or if hanging around vampires made one overly paranoid and comparative.

"So what's the game plan?" I asked. Even with Edward watching my mouth much too closely, the taste of jam on toast was too delicious to not be enjoyed completely. I'd have to remind myself to break out the strawberry jar more often. Dad insisted on natural jam, so it was a little sugar deprived, but still yum.

"There's a place I want to show you," he said. He folded his hands on the table and leaned close.

"What place?" I nibbled the last corner of my toast. I grabbed a glass and the milk carton from the fridge. Milk and toast and strawberry jam were a weekend favourite of mine. The only better thing might be if I added a couple strips of bacon. Yum.

I waited for Edward to answer, but my question received only silence. I turned to Edward an engaged in a staring contest. I urged him with my mind to answer me, but Edward's telepathy didn't work on me. So, no luck; I lost the contest.

"Fine," I said. I lifted my hands in surrender. "Surprise me. I trust you."

His left eyebrow arched highly. "_Trust issues_?"

It took me a second to make the connection. I blushed when I remembered my list. I'd have to take revenge against Alice for that, someday, somehow.

"You should have covered your ears," I stage-whispered. "Or…your mind's ears? Your telepathy ears—I don't think that's possible."

Edward's eyebrow stayed raised. "Biologically speaking, it's impossible."

"I thought so." I put my plate and emptied glass in the dishwasher. "I stand by it anyway. If you hadn't have heard it, you wouldn't be in doubt now."

"So you _do_ trust me?" His eyes narrowed. He was struggling against Alice's inside info and the half-truth I was telling him.

"We're going to talk about that," I promised. "But for this instance, yes, I trust you."

"We can talk now," he said sharply.

"Hey, you were the one who said this can be both fun and business," I reminded him. "If we start the bad and the ugly stuff now, we'll have to skip over the good. And"—I shrugged my right shoulder—"chances are I won't be seeing the surprise today. We'll get caught up discussing my list." I flashed my blue palm. The colour was there, but the words were blurred beyond recognition. "But, it's up to you."

He sighed heavily, fingers unfolding. He pushed himself up and moved to the doorway. "We'll start with the good first," he said. He opened the front door.

I allowed him to usher my outside. I had stashed the house key in my pocket, so I locked the front door when Edward closed it behind me. He led me to his to his car; propping open the door like it was a chariot, like he was the coachman and I Cinderella. Except this ball would hopefully end without the dramatic runaway exit.

"So where is this place? It's on planet earth, right?"

Edward chuckled. He was in a better mood.

I watched my house slip past my vision and remembered that Edward liked to drive fast. Wherever we were going, we'd get there without delay, even with me waking up late.

"It's not far," he said. "Maybe farther by human standards. Hm." He turned his eyes form the road and examined my physique. "Not _too _far." His eyes examined my top once more.

Success.

"There isn't a path, but it won't take long to get there. Half an hour at most."

I rolled my eyes. That's why I hadn't worn the skirt.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I stared out the window, contemplating how to approach the topics in my list. I knew I'd get him angry at me—way more than once—but I hoped we could end the day on a positive note.

Edward seemed content to glance at me as he feigned being a responsible driver. I hoped he hadn't noticed the strand I found in my hair that was still wet. My hasty job was not a job well done.

Thinking about my list made me anxious. I decided I had to distract myself with more pleasant trains of thoughts. I looked from the window and met Edward's gaze.

"How often to you take this pathless path?" I asked.

"Not as often as I'd like," he answered. His eye fixed forward, blankly staring.

"What's so special about this place?"

He laughed quietly, muted to match his serene expression. "Nothing extraordinary. It's quiet. A place where I don't have to pretend," he said, eyes meeting mine for a moment, sharing a smile with me.

The smile faltered from both our faces when we realized what his statement truly meant.

It meant the Edward around people was a role he had to play. The Edward I was about to meet, in this place, was the real him. I had told Billy the only thing I had to be afraid of was which side of Edward—the hungry monster or the man—was the real him. I was going to find out today.

Although, I already knew that both sides would always be part of him, one of those sides was stronger. If the monster proved stronger than the man, my feelings wouldn't matter anymore. I wasn't going to stand by and be killed.

But if the man was stronger, than I'd never say another bad word against him.

The brakes halted us suddenly. Jerking me into consciousness. I'd been too deep in my thoughts.

Edward opened my door and offered his hand.

I took his hand and stepped into the light. The sun was so bright today. "Nice weather for a hike," I said. It sounded like a groan. I wasn't able to hide my dislike for the mass of trees and roots and potential poison ivy that bloomed ahead of me. The forest was thick and wide and I was small. It would be so easy to get lost.

"I wouldn't call it a hike," he said, his laughter mocking my frailty. "An unsteady stroll."

I looked up to the sky. God, why had I agreed to this date thing? It was going to be the death of me.

Edward had already crossed the tree line. Shadow covered the top half of his body. He held out his hand, palm drenched in sunlight, inviting me into the darkness.

I chewed on my bottom lip and stood on the sunnier side of the tree line. Edward reached for my hand and entwined his fingers with mine. He led me forward.

"I won't let you get lost," he promised.

I stepped carefully. My eyes darted from the ground the above my head, watching for any branches, twigs, or nature angled out to trip me or whack my head. Edward had one arm up holding various branches and leaves out of my way.

He laughed at me. If I hadn't been annoyed with the reason behind his laughter—mocking me—I would have laughed too. He sounded so free; it was contagious laughter.

The closeness of the ferns and thickness of the bushes increased. Edward helped me over a fallen tree. We stopped for a moment, Edward putting his finger to my lips and pointing out a deer. It was like the puzzle with the old woman, young woman. I had to squint my eyes and twist my head to find the image Edward was seeing. The doe was far, but close enough to make out its shape. It was the biggest female deer I'd seen. I'd seen a few from a car window when I was younger, but I'd never seen one without some man-made structure being in the way. This, at least, was worth agreeing to the date.

Edward had an arm around me. We were smiling together. I hadn't fallen flat on my face or fallen over a stump. I'd made a personal record of closeness to a wild animal. The weather was warm and the sun highlighted patched of bright green amongst the shadows. It was beautiful. Perfect.

It took more than half an hour, but that was my fault. I was slow. When Edward pointed out that the 'place' was just ahead. I first felt tired relief. I didn't have to go any further. Then I felt excitement. Something about this place made Edward happy. I wanted to understand what it was.

We reached the edge of the trees. I could see light beaming brightly beyond. Edward stepped forward first, taking his hand from mine.

"We're here."

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: Next chapter we'll see another detour from the original Twilight storyline. (HintSpoiler: There will be blood. But not a lot. Yet.) But then less detour-y, then a major detour...then...*secret*. XP

...btw...

MERRY CHRISTMAS! I have returned from the dead to post this chapter in time for the holidays. I apologize for delay, but I had no time.

Term 1 is done. YES. THANK GOD. I am dead. Deceased. Finite. Famished. Drained. Zombie-fied. (And a bunch of other negative words that relating to being over-done...) Now I can fly home and just relax. YES.

I hope everyone enjoys this festive time of year and takes a breather from their respective activities and has a jolly good time! And a Happy New Year!


	14. Chapter 13: Confessions

_13. CONFESSIONS_

Beautiful was the word for it. The meadow was a bowl of flowers and the sun ran over every inch of it. Gold, red, green, and violet; the colours made my heart sputter for a moment. I hadn't thought something so wonderful could exist in Forks.

Well. Something else wonderful did exist in Forks, but it wasn't nature—wasn't natural—wasn't alive. It was the direct sun—burning hotter than ever before—that showed me how truly dead Edward was.

My own skin brightened under the sun, took on that healthy glow that all things have in the day. Nothing spooky about me; the light brought out the shades in my hair, the lighter, the darker, the strands of red-brown, the hidden dimensions of my being. I was alive; I was always changing.

Under the sun, I was reminded Edward couldn't change. He was frozen in time, the direct light made his skin grey. The brightness, the hopefulness of everything in the cheery meadow—colours, things that grow, things that could yet die; yet revive, survive, change…Edward would always be cloaked in death. With every cycle of the sun the change in me, the stillness in him, created a greater distance between us. That, to me, as loath as I was to admit it, frightened me more than any physical harm he could do to me. Being with Edward meant admitting that he and I could never be the same, and I would always have much more to lose than him—because I had so much more to gain.

Maybe monsters weren't called monsters because the damage they could do. It was the damage done to them. They could live as humans did—as I could. I still could, if I knew how to change my heart. Instead I now understood Edward a little better. How can someone be happy if their existence is the stuff of nightmares and horror movies? And to never change…being forever young wasn't worth the price of being never content.

"Edward."

He avoided me now. He knew the effect of the sun, the proof of what he was—what he could never become.

Why did I have to play the brave one? I was really suited to a different role. I preferred damsel in distress—but that was only if someone planned on rescuing me. Unfortunately my knight had hidden inside his armor, shielding his face from me.

"The date portion of our outing is official over now, I think," I said. "We should to talk."

He faced me but didn't look at me. I didn't blame him for assuming this was the 'It's not you, it's me' speech, but his expression made me feel guilty. How did I end up playing the evil kid with a stick and he the lame puppy? He was really good at that.

"That was fast." He smirked. His incisors showed. Instead of being threatened, images the lame puppy wouldn't leave my mind. "I'm impressed you let me drag you out here at all."

"You didn't drag me, Edward." It was a partial lie. For some parts he had taken my hand and had to pull me forward when my motivation slipped. It had been a long walk. I wasn't used to that much nature trail all in one go. "I came because I want to talk with you. If this is going to work between us…and maybe I'm being selfish…No." I shook myself mentally. I was being human, being rational about this—not selfish. "Being the endangered party, you have to agree that it's fair that you sacrifice more than me."

The puppy went away. The dog species went away entirely. At first I thought tiger, the eyes seemed to fit, but then dragon hit me. Yes, too much for me to fight off; furious and spitting fire; a black dragon with golden eyes, encircling around me with a snake-like body. There was no escape. I'd entered the dragon's lair, his home, his meadow—and I'd drawn my sword. There would be no end without a battle.

"You don't know what you're saying," he accused. His hands twitched at his sides. He could tear me apart, he could strangle me, he could hit me, or he could hold me and beg me to stay. He was on edge, every particle in his skin haywire; he didn't know what to do with me.

"Let me guess, you think you sacrifice a lot already?" I rolled my eyes. It was a dangerous move, spitting at my opponent. "I'm not blind Edward." Okay, I had been a little blind—but I'd been ignoring the truth, not that I hadn't seen it. Now I was laying all the cards on the table, taking a gamble that he would do the same; that he'd see he had more cards than I had.

"You're family is obviously against this—except Alice, God knows why."

Edward's hands relaxed. There was a secret between him and Alice, the reason she supported the relationship. Was it one of her visions?

"Half of _yourself_ is against this—since I'm apparently delectable."

He didn't deny this simple truth, but the rage was back. He wanted to lie to me. Not half of me, he wanted to say. He wanted it to be the smallest part of him, but the truth was saying only half was generous.

"This is bad for both of us."

Rosalie had explained it quite clearly—more clearly than I'd thought my own mind could arrange it. I hated that she'd put so much of the blame on me, but she'd seen what I hadn't until now. I didn't have all the power; I didn't have a lot of control; but what I did have might be enough. It was enough that Rosalie felt threatened; it was enough that Alice was on my side.

"I'm a seventeen year old girl, Edward. And you're trying to control my life. If both of us were human, I wouldn't be flattered. I would never agree to date you. I'd have filed a restraining order."

Edward's fists tightened. The muscles in his jaw, his throat, tightened. He didn't like this answer of mine.

"I only bring it up because I want you to realize that I need a lot more freedom than you're giving me." I took a breath, and continued speaking even though he'd tried to argue. "I get that getting used to me, my presence, my blood—whatever it is—helps that whole yummy tasty Bella problem, but if you're serious about liking me—Bella, me. Not blood me. You need to respect that I have a life that doesn't revolve around you."

Had I just said that? Ha. It was wishful thinking, not truthful. I _wanted_ a life that didn't revolve around him. Maybe I could persuade him to make this wish come true. As much as I was drawn to him, it was human nature to want to repel anything that came close. It was too early in our relationship to have him in my line of sight every waking hour.

"I should be allowed to have friends who aren't you and your sister. I had friends before you interrupted my life; so I should be allowed to keep them, spend time with them, and not every blue moon. Often. I remind you, teenage girl standing right here. Needs. Friends. Will wilt without."

I pointed my thumbs at myself to emphasis that I was the overly selfish hormonal bitch who had needs that refused to be ignored. When realized I'd made the mistake of directing his eyes to my chest, where his eyes lingered, I blushed and yanked my hands to my sides. He was very good at not blinking. I cleared my throat, he didn't blink _but_ he did take the hint. He looked at my neck instead. Damn. Look at the bright side, Bella. At least this was closer to my face.

"Is this your list?" he asked.

The joke wasn't appreciated. While it was clear from his stillness that he needed the comic relief, I wasn't done.

"You're haven't commented on my demands."

His eyes met mine then. "I haven't."

Damn him. I had to look away. Despite the hollow look of death the sun gave him, it made his eyes glow bright like golden rings tossed in fire. _Precious_, as Golem would say. Not _my_ precious, not yet.

"You're not going to." My heart sunk. He wasn't going to try? Why couldn't he at least try to work with my demands? It was difficult for me to come this far. I couldn't push forward if he didn't offer me his hand; provide any sign that he wanted to _try_.

He joined me where I stood, the centre of the meadow, the full of the sun on us. His skin was a corpse; his eyes were more alive than any creature in the world, yet it was the creature behind those eyes that could stop my breath any second he chose.

"If I could…give you freedom, separate from your life, you wouldn't use the distance to run?" His hand reached for me, for a moment it seemed for my neck, but he stirred my hair, brushing it forward.

"Of course not." Hadn't I told him this before, that I was done running? I hadn't realized that he was so insecure—that he doubted the safety of his heart, where it remained in my weak hands.

His hand slid through my hair, bringing the end closer to him. "What can I do to seem less controlling?"

"Allow me to have an opinion, for one thing," I suggested. "If I rather spend the day with my fellow humans, let me—at least twice a week."

His eyebrow lifted. "Only twice?"

"That's the starting block. We'll work our way up."

A small smile touched his lips. His lips moved, I thought to speak, but no sound. Maybe I had blinked and missed it.

"I am going to disagree with you, often."

He chuckled. "I already knew that."

"_Let me_," I said through my teeth. "Our brainwaves don't have to match for this to work. We—both of us, me included, I admit—have to respect that our thoughts differ. Just because we have this talk today, don't think I won't get mad at you ever again. But I will try not to."

"So it's reasonable to expect the same from me?" His hand moved to my shoulder, sliding over my neck to my arm.

"I get that you're not going to do a total one-eighty," I agreed. "We can both only fight our inner natures so much before it's crazy talk. So I'm going to try being nicer, you're going to give me more respect."

He rolled his eyes. He sensed he was getting the harder end of the bargain.

Suck it up, princess. He was the one who'd driven me into a corner.

"The physical contact has improved, I think." I swallowed. His fingertip on my bare skin made me nervous.

His eyes narrowed on mine.

"I mean the abuse, Edward."

His eyes widened. Yes, he realized, he'd been less touchy feely and more back you against a wall-y.

"Maybe you've forgotten that humans are fragile, and teenage girls in love even more so, but you need to give me room to breathe."

Edward's finger curled around my neck. "What did you say?" The corners of his lips lifted slightly. He fought against it. He didn't want to give in to false hope.

"I said, room to breathe. I'm letting you get away with it right now, but that's because…" I trailed off. That wasn't a reason I wanted to say aloud. I'd wanted to lie and say I was trying to be nice, but I wasn't trying anything. I wished I hadn't told him to give me room. I wanted to be crushed. His eyes had hypnotized me.

"Not that. _Before _that."

Teenage girls in love, which had referred to me; no wonder he'd caught me so easily with that look in his eyes. I'd given him evidence he'd won that battle. He was swimming in the scent of victory.

"I'm not ready for that," I whispered.

He pulled his hand away and closed his eyes. "I wish you were."

"I need to prove something first."

His eyes opened, a worried question in him. He could read the terrible surprise in my eyes. I was reckless today.

Edward's eyes flicked to the hand in my pocket. He followed my hand as I stepped back a foot. He watched with confused horror as I pulled it out of my pocket.

I don't know what had possessed me to take Dad's abandoned Swiss army knife from the toolbox in the garage, maybe I'd known there was only one way for me to feel confident about trusting Edward once and for all. But as I held the blade above my arm I found I was reluctant to enact my plan.

"Bella." Edward's eyes were wide with terror. He held one hand out, ready to grasp my hand to stop me if he had to. His knees were bent, ready to pounce if he had to, force the knife from my tightened grip.

I gave myself a silent count of three, but cut on two. I inhaled as the blade sliced across my skin, dying the pale cream with a line of crimson like a gutted cherry. I knew it would hurt, but the 'ow, ow, ow' escaped my lips before I could stop myself. It stung like hand sanitizer on a paper cut, but worse, sharper.

My fingers fumbled, dropped the army knife on the ground. I didn't check where it had landed. I bit my lip and took a sharp breath. I looked to Edward to see if he could pass this test.

"Well?" I shouted. I held out my bleeding arm and stepped closer.

I blinked and he was backed against the edge of the clearing, his fingers digging into the bark of a tree. The cracking was loud, like thunder had struck or an axe chopped beside my eardrum. With a crunch the tree Edward had grabbed snapped in half.

Oh crap. Not a good sign.

I blinked and a faint breeze brushed over my skin. I whipped my head around to find Edward holding the army knife, the blade gleaming and bloodless. Not a single drop remained on the blade.

Oh crap. It was another bad sign.

A chill wrapped around my wrist. Before the scream could escape, my eyes had found him. Edward's hand was holding my arm. Edward's eyes were on my wound. He wrapped a white bandage around my left palm, across the cut I had made.

"You planned this test from the beginning," he said, his voice was tight and choked. His eyes were wild, like a skittish animal, a squirrel about to spring away.

I felt my back pocket, where I'd hidden the bandages. I wondered how he'd known they were there. Lucky guess? No. Edward didn't guess. He knew me too well to need to.

"I knew I would never be able to trust you if I was still _afraid _that you wanted my blood more than you—"

"I _do _want your blood, Bella!" His hands gripped my arms, holding me so close that if not for the twisting pain on his face, he might have kissed me. Even with the guilt and the pain, there was enough hunger in his eyes that the hope remained.

"I will _always_ want your blood," he continued, his tone sharper and louder than I'd ever heard from him. "It doesn't matter what you _want_ me to be." The determination in his eyes broke for a moment. "I am a vampire, Bella, and above all things I worship _blood_. I hunger. I thirst. I cannot _exist_ without it. I can't think straight if I don't get it exactly when I want it from _whom_ I want it."

"You're thinking straight now, aren't you?" I asked, casting a worried glance as his hands tightened around my skin. "I'm still alive."

"_Barely_, and only because I've had _decades_ to practice," he warned, eyes narrowed. "One wrong movement and I will _tear _you apart."

"Then please tell me…" My hand quivered for a moment, but stilled when my fingers felt the smooth coolness of his cheek. "…If this is wrong…?"

Edward could have stopped me, I moved too slowly, uncertain. When I closed my eyes and my lips felt his, I wondered if I could erase the movement. But the second our lips touched was a second too late. If Alice was watching over us then, she would've known then that touching for the first time meant we'd never be separate people ever again.

It was only when my lungs were burning that Edward let me go.

After that we lingered in the meadow for hours. Edward laid back and told me everything I wanted to know but hadn't been allowed to ask before. I plucked petals off flowers. Edward scolded me the first few times, but a simple utterance of "I love him, I love him not" silenced him. He handed me a new flower when I plucked the last on "I love him not". He said, "Try again."

Edward corrected my inference that he slept in a coffin. No coffins. Vampires didn't do that, too cliché. The truth that shocked me was that vampires were incurable insomniacs. Without enough blood they could be paralyzed from their lack of energy. I betted the loss of REM sleep had something to do with that.

I tried to ask about werewolves—since Jake's tale had suggested the hairier monster was the ultimate weakness. Edward was reluctant. Indirectly he confirmed they existed.

"_If_ werewolves existed," he said, eyebrows wagged at me, "they would be the only creatures capable of matching vampires in speed and strength—_if_ vampires existed."

"Hm."

"Do you know a werewolf you can employ for my assassination?" He handed me another flower. He didn't hide that he'd counted the petals and plucked the one that marred the results of my recitation.

"No. I'll place an ad in the paper."

He sat up so quickly, he created a draft; it made me shiver. He sat forward, one knee bent, leg out, eyes forward.

"I thought your test was to prove you can trust me?"

I nodded.

His exhale was long. He rubbed his temple. "Did I fail your test?"

"You got a B minus."

His hand dropped. "I don't like that. I'm usually an A student."

"You'll have to study much harder to get an A in my class, Mr. Cullen."

Without needing to look, he knew I'd reached for another flower. "The count was right that time."

"You fixed the results." I didn't pluck the next flower. I lay down and stared at the petals, pale and pink, tipped with red. Stems bowed behind my back.

The question popped out before I could stop it. "To match a vampire in speed and strength, you'd have to be…actually, how strong and how fast are we talking?"

The tree and the car incident weren't enough for me.

"Is that evidence enough?" he asked.

It settled in quickly, my mouth hanging open to question, but I realized he was holding my sock in his hands. I shot up and stared at my foot. The shoe was on. He'd taken my shoe off, taken my sock off, and replaced my shoe all before he'd spoken—in a second—fast enough that I hadn't noticed.

"Well it's…" The second piece of evidence was apparent then. I brought my hand forward, fingers loose around a bouquet of meadow flowers. "…Impressive."

I almost said terrifying, but the flowers had won me over. The thought of what else he could do to me with that speed…I derailed that train of thought. Werewolves had to be freakin' fast if they could match Edward.

"Excuse me for bragging, but compared to most vampires I am faster." He grinned. He liked impressing me. "Not all monsters are made equal, as not all men are."

"So you're the Olympic runner of the vampires?" I held the bouquet in both hands. There wasn't a single imperfection. He'd picked the best.

"Alice, also, can be considered in the Olympic league," he added.

"Let me get this straight. Alice can see the future, and she's speedy. Edward can read minds, also the Flash. Emmett is strong like a dinosaur on steroids, and…that's it. Rosalie is Aphrodite, and the enemy of all women—"

"I wouldn't say that within hearing range if I were you—I suppose you don't know what that is exactly, but it's safer if you only repeat that if I'm close enough to protect you." He winked at me. It made the threat of Rosalie more uncertain. Would she really kill me for such a comment?

Oh yes. She was Rosalie.

"Jasper is…a remote control for emotions. Esme has such a strong Momma Bear instinct that she became a doctor somewhere along the way to care for more people?"

"Originally she'd taken up practice to assist Carlisle," Edward explained. "Every since the 80s Esme has been determined take her role as a doctor more seriously. Carlisle decided he'd write down his entire history—a break from being the breadwinner, as Esme put it, since she wants to play that role for a while."

"How close is Carlisle to finishing…?" I wondered how long he'd been alive, how much personal history did he have?

"Completely finished. Esme and Carlisle switch roles when we change towns." He winced when he realized what he'd revealed.

"How often to you change towns?" I asked. I let the bouquet drop.

Edward entwined his fingers through mine. That was his answer. He thought it was better to keep the ever-nearing departure a secret.

"Do you change names when you change towns? Like, aliases?" I swallowed the threatening sadness and moved on to the superhero aspect of Edward's life.

He nodded. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it, our fingers linked still.

"Is Edward Cullen your real name?"

He laughed weakly. "Coincidently."

I smiled. Why had I been so worried? Even if I'd know him by an alias, he'd still be Edward on the inside. Yet it made me feel closer to him. Fate had something to do with it. To me, it was too much to be all _coincidence_.

"It's been a few decades since I used my name—in public, that is. With my family I am always Edward Cullen."

It meant a lot to me to know that—indirectly—knowing this name meant knowing a true part of him.

"What was your name before, when you lived in the last place, wherever that was?" I tried to compile a list of regal names, or names that fit his image. Only Edward came to mind.

"Evan," he said. He laughed when my face wrinkled in distaste. "I'm glad that I hadn't met you with that name."

"Sorry." It wasn't the same.

"We try to stay close to the original, but vary enough that it doesn't leave a obvious trail." His arm crossed over me and pinched the stem of a red flower, raising it in front of me. "We never age, so the trail is obvious enough without leaving bread crumbs."

I slid backwards, ignored the flower, and stood. I stretched my arms. The sky had dimmed. It was late afternoon. The air had chilled.

"It's getting late," I hinted. Edward had relinquished my sock and allowed me to slip it back on and direct my feet toward where I thought we'd entered the meadow.

Edward grabbed my shoulder and spun me the opposite direction. I was helpless without a map and a compass. Or, better, a GPS; I was much better with an instructive technological device telling me where to go.

Before I could wander into the forest, Edward's arm trapped me in his embrace.

"You'd fooled me into thinking we'd grown closer."

I touched my hand to his. "We have. But perfection doesn't come in a day. I told you that—"

"I'm sorry, I was overreacting. I don't mean to be controlling," he whispered. His kissed my shoulder. "Old habits don't die easily." He stepped back. "Forgive me."

"I'm not trying to get rid of you, Edward." I put my hands on my hips and raised a brow at him. I faced him squarely and confidently. I would never run from him again.

Rosalie's promise flashed in front of my eyes. If Edward were ever strong enough to try to pull away…No, I would never willingly run from Edward.

"I'm just trying to get home before my dad does. I don't want him to worry."

Edward was surprised by my answer. He was going to expect me to run for a long time yet. It would take a lot of effort to convince him.

"On the topic of getting away from people," I said, turned toward the forest, this time with Edward beside me, "you disappeared for a while. Where?"

His arms slipped, his hand lingered on my shoulder. "Alaska."

"I didn't realize that was the ideal vacation destination."

"There's another coven there that's like us."

The red flag went up. "Like you? Like you how?"

Edward's stepped back. I felt a chill up my spine.

"You mean, the rule about drinking only animal blood." I groaned. Of course. The Cullens were the vegetarians of the vampire world. The more common kind of vampire thought humans were free range. If I were ever to meet an unfamiliar vamp in the woods, my first assumption would always be that he, or she, was dangerous. The same assumption I'd had when I'd first met Edward.

"They're also large, like our coven."

I put my hands on my hips and faced him. "I'd sort of assumed that you had a large family. Maybe that's because I'm an only child—whatever, I still assumed covens were bigger. The word 'coven' implies large."

Edward chuckled, his teeth caught the light and nearly sparkled they were so bright. I had to get the name of his dentist.

"It used to be that way," he explained. "Before the fourteenth century. Now covens tend to be smaller groups. Four would be an average coven. It's rare to meet another coven at all, rarer to meet one larger than four."

"If that isn't a comment on the deterioration of social interaction, I don't know what it." I sighed heavily. "I sense that with Facebook and Twitter covens with continue to shrink."

Edward kissed my forehead. "Only you," he said.

My face warmed. "Only me what?"

"I can't remember the last time I laughed so much."

My eyebrows drew together. "That's terrible. That must mean you didn't watch _Whose Line Is It Anyway_. Or you have a terrible sense of humour."

"I've never cared much for television."

"I have many things to show you then, young Padawan." I'd been tempted to do my Yoda impersonation, but there was nothing sexy about Yoda and I kind a wanted Edward to think of me that way.

I remembered why I'd approached the forest before Edward had tried to pull me back. Dad would not be pleased if I wasn't home when he showed up. I was tempted to be a rebel and stay with Edward until tomorrow—but no matter how tempting Edward was, I respected Dad too much to disregard him entirely.

"Please point me in the right direction."

Edward pointed forward. He stood there for a moment, not moving. I half expected him to say 'good luck' and watch me go. Alone. Instead he took my hand, laughing at me stunned expression, and drew me out of the sun. I don't know where I'd end up without my tour guide.

Once again Edward prevented me from tripping over roots and getting knocked unconscious by low-hanging branches. The forest was a dangerous place for a klutz. Edward was so unlike me, graceful. The forest suited him. It extenuated the wildness in him, made me want to watch him. The forest made me unstable and frustrated. It made me wonder what Edward saw in me, with us being so different. I thought maybe it might be that, much like him, the world of humans wasn't our natural habitat. We'd both been forced to play a part to fit in. I'd liked playing the part; he didn't. If I ever got tired of trying so hard to make everyone like me, Edward would still be there, because, accidentally, I'd let him see me. It was scary to think that he might be the only person I could be myself around.

When we'd reappeared on the other side of the trees, I was too relieved to measure. It was a different world in there. I was much too human to last long surrounded by moss, branches, roots, and shadows. I needed electricity.

"Edward?"

"Yes?" he asked, much too gently. He liked affecting me, making me blush.

"Now that we're not in your meadow anymore, you're still going to try to follow my rules, right?" I had to admit the thought had occurred to me that he'd agree without following through. I had trust issues, after all. I'd told him that—well, first Alice had told him that, with her sneaky key-drop trick.

"I will."

Edward opened the right side door of his car and gestured I should climb in. I was happy to sit down after that hike. Edward was driving by the time I reached for my seatbelt. His eyes were on my hands more than the road. He wanted to be sure I had me safety restraint on, because he had a need for speed, which was dangerous only because there were human drivers on the road.

"_If _I'm to follow your rules," he said, a clear note of disagreement in his tone, "I need you to do something for me."

God, just when I thought I was out of the woods.

Edward's eyes met mine, sadness in them. It was concern. Not what I'd expected. I'd thought he'd want to bend my rules to his will; instead his eyes fell over my bandaged wound, and then met my eyes again.

"Promise me you won't try to test me like that again." His fingers drew a line across the back of my left hand, moving over the bandages and stroking the skin. It made me shiver.

"I don't plan to." It was painful enough the first time—emotionally more than physically. Although it had been brief, I had been terrified. If Edward were any weaker, I wouldn't have survived the meadow.

"If you must test me, you mustn't harm yourself to do so," he explained, laying his fingers over mine. "If you need me to prove myself again, I will. But I won't let this happen again."

"I needed to feel certain that wanted _me_ more than my blood," I told him.

He took my hand and kissed the back gently. "I love you, Bella. More than your blood."

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: Another long break between postings. The next chapter is a paragraph (or three) away from being finished.<p>

As a university student, I do a lotta lotta writing...and my writing-for-fun tends to get swept under the rug when I go through busy times. After the holidays there were definitely busy times. I'm hoping there will be a nice calm now that I've handed in a few assignments. I shall see.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! You are so awesome for reading this! Comments/reviews always appreciated. I'm trying to do this for a living so, even though its fanfiction, comments always help me know where to improve. Thank you.

PS There is nothing wrong with the name Evan. I like that name, but it's not Edward. Edward is Edward. XP


	15. Chapter 14: Mind Over Matter

_14. MIND OVER MATTER_

HE DID DRIVE WELL, WHEN HE KEPT THE SPEED REASONABLE, I HAD TO ADMIT.

The ride home was quiet, mainly because I was flustered. Edward had this look on his face like he'd won the lottery, much too joyful, and it only made me more flustered. He was happy because of me. Dad gave me that look too sometimes, when he remembered that I was here in Forks with him instead of spending my time away from him, ignoring him like Mom did. Dad had begun to believe that Forks was my home, and his home was a place I wanted to be. It was true. I did. I wanted this place to be my home. There was a time when I would have considered abandoning Dad if it meant escaping Edward. Now Edward was part of the reason I wanted to stay. From the way Edward smiled at me, he must have known that was the case. He seemed to think the day had been as successful as I did, but for different reasons. I'd wanted him to agree to my terms. He'd just wanted me to leave without _trust issues_. He didn't need to know that some of that still lingered, because enough of it had vanished that I knew, maybe, someday, it might all fade. For now we'd take our time, we'd make it work. If we were patient things could be better, for both of our sakes.

Edward parked at the end of my driveway. I tried to thank him for a splendiferous day and send him away, but he was already helping me out of the car. His intention was to be invited in. It was annoying, not because I minded keeping him with me, but because we were moving at _his_ pace _again_.

"You know I haven't invited you in yet," I pointed out. I wasn't going for subtlety. "Do you remember anything we discussed today?"

"Do you want me to go?" he asked.

Touché. I was being a little nasty—even though I'd promised I wouldn't be—and he'd taken the opportunity to point out the obvious. "No."

"Then I see no problem."

I did a slow-motion forehead slap. Again, I thought subtlety was not the best way to get through to Edward. "First, what happened to giving me space? Second, this would be the first time you'd be visiting my house, you know. So I'd like to be prepared."

Edward walked up the front steps, laughing. "_First_, I will keep my promise, but I must remind you that you said we'd be patient with each other, and not expect sudden changes," he said, mocking me a little, but he got away with it because he smiled so innocently. He was too good at that. "Let me spend a little more time with you before I give you your 'space'."

I rolled my eyes. "Fair enough."

"Second," he said, this time reluctantly, as he leaned against the corner of my doorway. "This isn't the first time."

I froze. His words were like a sledgehammer whack to my brain. I blinked and Edward had my keys in his hand. He pushed open the door and showed me in. The cockiness was not appreciated.

"You've been to my house before, when I'm not around," I said. "You mean when Alice brought my truck to the school, right?"

Edward shrugged. "That was Alice alone, that time."

My eyes nearly rolled back into my head. This was one moment when I wished I could strangle him, or give him a good shake, or, better, throw a water balloon at him and lock the door behind me.

"When?"

He didn't answer. The look in his eyes was guilty, but not sorry. He wouldn't take it back. To me that meant he'd been up to something.

"What could you possibly be doing in my house when I'm not around? If you say anything remotely similar to sneaking through my computer files or groping my clothing, or—"

"I never came when you weren't here, Bella," he interrupted.

I stared through the open door. My home. My version of Edward's meadow—the only place I could completely be myself and let all the worries of the world outside my door be simply that, outside worries, left at the door. "You were in my house."

He hesitated. He could tell he'd crossed a line. "Yes."

"When I was here."

"Yes."

My entire body tightened, like tuning a string on a guitar. One twist tighter and I would snap. "You spied on me?"

His expression was unapologetic. "What else is there to do at night?"

"_At night_?"

I gawked. I couldn't believe him. _How could he_? I felt my cheeks burn with both embarrassment and anger. I couldn't decide what bothered me more; the fact that he'd been watching me or the fact that he'd been watching me when my guard was down.

"Have you ever considered just closing you're eyes, daydream a little?" I suggested.

"Daydreaming at night," he mused. A smile crawled onto his face. "I've never been much of a daydreamer."

I sighed. Of course not, after all he already had so much. What was there left to dream about?

"Was this a one time deal?" I asked. My eyes pleaded with him to answer yes. "You just happened to watch me once and noticed where I keep the house key?"

He was silent. Not a good sign. I tried to remember how often I'd thought I'd merely left the window open…how often had there been evidence he'd been there?

"How often, Edward?" I demanded. I put my foot down. I wasn't going to let this go.

He turned his head away, avoiding me. That meant that he'd watched me more than once. He'd followed me home _more than once_.

"Since when have you been following me home?" I was getting nervous now. I told myself to imagine he was like a puppy following me home. It was innocent curiosity and attachment, nothing more. It wasn't a thirsty vampire stalking his next meal.

"After the hospital…I just wanted to make sure you were alright," he said anxiously, worried that I wouldn't understand. "And maybe I was too curious." He paused. "Maybe my intentions weren't altogether pure."

I backed up the porch steps, getting closer to the doorway, careful to avoid getting too near him. "What do you mean?"

He lifted his chin, eyes bearing into mine. "The scent of your blood…being so close to tasting it," he murmured hungrily, "I don't know how I resisted. Somehow I made myself worry about your life that day, but I couldn't forget that scent."

"You mean when I was bleeding from the car accident," I realized. He'd sounded so concerned—maybe only concerned that he'd start drinking my life away in the parking lot, when everyone was watching. "So you came with the intention of sucking my blood in my _sleep_? What stopped you?"

"That's not what…" He reached for me, but pulled back. "I don't know. I don't know what I really wanted. I knew I had to see you."

I stepped through the doorway, gripping the doorframe tightly. I debated silently over how fast I could slam the door. He was too fast. If he wanted to he could easily slip inside.

"So why _didn't _you kill me?" I asked. My throat tightened around my words. I was afraid of what his answer would be.

"You said my name," he answered softly, "in your sleep."

My fingers slipped from the doorframe. "That's all?"

He didn't speak, only stared. In his eyes I saw the only answer I needed. Honesty. His answer was yes, that was all. I'd said his name—such a simple, plain thing—but to hear me say his name was enough to stop his thirst. For a moment, I forgot all my anger, forgot that he'd been watching me in my sleep. As much as it annoyed me to admit it, Edward could be incredibly sweet. My blush deepened.

I knew I talked in my sleep. It was always the cause of torture at sleepovers. I'd been invited to a few in my younger years. In the morning I was always teased for the things I said. I stopped going to sleepovers, and even birthdays that involved sleepovers, just because I was so embarrassed. It was one of the reasons friends didn't stay friends for long. They probably thought I didn't want to be invited when I refused their invitations, but truthfully I just couldn't take the teasing. Now Edward Cullen knew my weakness.

"Um, is that all I said?" I crossed my fingers behind my back.

He smirked and his eyes darkened. "The first time."

I groaned. Just my luck, I'd probably said a load of embarrassing things in the amount of times he'd…which reminded me that I had no reason to be embarrassed when he was a stalker. My anger resumed where it had left off, building with intensity. If he said one more _creepy_ thing I'd start breathing fire.

"So that's the first time," I groaned, "and when was the second time?"

"The next night," he admitted.

I gaped, staring at him with shock in my eyes for a long moment. He didn't seem surprised by my reaction or sorry about his actions.

"So you've been following me around—coming into my room at night and watching me in my sleep," I accused venomously, "_every single night since then_?"

He hesitated. His eyes darted away so quick I almost didn't see it. "There was a night I didn't come," he said, ashamed and unenthusiastic. "I told myself that I shouldn't see you anymore."

I wanted to ask when that was. Did he just give up randomly? Or was it the day I agreed to go out with Tyler?

"But I realized it didn't matter," he confessed, "whether you wanted me or not. I couldn't stay away from you. Never again."

Even as the sweetness and devotion in his words touched my heart, an alarm rung in my mind, it reminded me that everything he said had two meanings. Yes he wanted me in the same way I wanted him, but he was also drawn to me for another reason. So when he said he _couldn't_ stay away from me, it was the same way that when chocolate cake sat in front of you and you told yourself "just one more bite," and then that _one_ turns into another until the whole slice is gone. One more scratch at that bug bite, one more to stop the itching, until it starts bleeding. Just one more drink at the bar, I'll still be fine to drive home, just after one more. Just a little more is never enough. Edward's inability to resist me was dangerous.

"So what would've happened to me, if I'd decided differently?" I wondered, hiding the worry that threatened to creep into my voice. I was too afraid to meet his eyes. My stare burned holes into the floor.

After a few seconds I heard him exhale, deeply, with the same fear I felt. "I don't know."

Not the answer I'd wanted, but the regret and sadness in his voice kept me from running away screaming. As much as he wanted to eat me—and hopefully _more_—he wanted me alive. If there was a way to make that side of him stronger—to keep his affection for me the dominant part of him—then I had to find that way.

"Stalking is wrong," I reminded him.

"Are you very angry at me?" he asked, but he was smirking, almost pleased that I was showing such a strong emotional response.

"More than angry," I told him strongly, voice unwavering, my game face on. "Don't ever even _think_ about stalking me without my permission again."

"Are you going to invite me in?" He already had one foot over the doorway.

"I'm undecided." I crossed my arms, frowning up at him, making sure he knew how very angry I was. No one got away with stalking me, even if that person wasn't exactly human.

He sighed and slipped past me. He was over the threshold now. More proof that everything I'd read about vampires was probably a lie. He didn't need to be invited in. He'd snuck in without an invitation. Holy water and stakes were child's play. So far blood and fangs were the only consistencies. Unless Edward could fly, turn into a flock of bats, or command wolf packs…but something told me that was a no.

"What else did I say in my sleep?"

"You're not going to drop the subject, are you?" He was frustrated by my stubbornness. He wanted to ignore me, move onto to something else, but he didn't.

"No. So tell me." I would make him see how stubborn I could be.

He moved into the kitchen, knowing exactly where to go. He'd been in my house often enough to know the exact layout. He didn't glance around, no curiosity. He made himself at home. He pulled out a pot and moved about the kitchen, pulling out ingredients from cabinets and the fridge. He knew his way around too well.

"You're not going to answer," I grumbled.

"You talked about your mother a few times," he started, stirring and mixing vegetables into the pot without needing to look.

"Yes." I had no trouble admitting what was obvious. Who wouldn't miss their mother, having lived with her for so long?

"You're mad at her," Edward added, a knowing look in his eyes.

Having him say it was frustrating, but I knew it was only because it was true. Edward could see right through me. I wondered if that was just him or all vampires who had that ability.

"You also talk about how wet it is," he teased with a smirk.

"Yeah, well, rain," I said, blushing. I crossed the kitchen to the stove and stood beside him, wondering what he was boiling in the pot. "What are you doing?"

"You're hungry," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm making stew."

My eyes bugged. "You can cook?"

He shrugged. "A little. It's hard when human food tastes like sandpaper."

"And how does sandpaper taste?" I joked.

"Like sandpaper," he said with a confused expression.

"Never mind." Apparently Edward couldn't always see through me, just most of the time. And now I knew that Edward had at some point tasted sandpaper. How spontaneous.

"So this could potentially be really bad," I said anxiously. I looked at him nervously. "You want me to eat that, when you don't have human taste buds to know what wacky combinations you threw in there."

He rolled his eyes. "There's nothing wacky about it, I promise."

I wasn't convinced. Although my nose picked up a whiff and my mouth started watering. If it smelled that good, the taste couldn't be that off. I scanned the counter for the ingredients he used as the pot continued to boil. He'd cleaned up at the same time he'd cooked. Nothing was left on the counter, except the top of couple carrots. I blinked and even the carrot roots were gone. He was fast. It was scary, yet convenient.

While Edward cooked I sat impatiently, curious. Edward tried to distract me by asking my permission for him to continue stalking me. I was both appalled and impressed by his audacity. I considered refusing him outright, but I knew he'd just stalk me in secret. It was better if I let him, but with guidelines.

"There are conditions," I decided. "The first being that you have to tell me every time. I need warning."

He sighed in annoyance. "Fine. I agree."

"And don't even think about being a Peeping Tom," I warned. "If your eyes are open I better be fully clothed. No funny business."

He cocked a brow. He seemed about to tell me something, but thought better of it. I decided I didn't want to know. It was better to remain blissfully unaware.

"I agree."

"Good because that one was the deal-breaker," I said with a frown. "Here's the final, but I'm sure you already know this one." I paused. "I don't want my Dad to finding out. I don't think it would be a great idea if he knew you were hanging around so much."

"So…should you're father know I'm here right now?" he asked uncertainly.

I frowned. "No. Not yet. It's too early for that. He knows I'm dating you, but I'm not ready to make introductions."

There were too many rules of the house I'd never thought to ask Dad. Was he okay with me being alone with a guy in his house? And how would I introduce Edward? How come the term 'boyfriend' didn't feel like it was enough to explain it all?

Edward took my hand and kissed it. "Until tonight then," he whispered.

Then he was gone. I blinked, seeing nothing in the empty space Edward had occupied just a second ago. I looked around, wondering where he had sped off. "Edward?"

I heard tires roll up the driveway; their crunching against the pavement could mean nothing else. Dad was home. The front door clicked open. I could hear Dad's footsteps, then clothes shifting quietly as he hung up his jacket.

No wonder Edward had vanished.

"Bella?" Dad called.

"Yeah," I answered, my spine tingling from the surprise. Edward's disappearance was timed so well, but it still threw me off that he'd been in the kitchen a second ago and now Dad was home. That's cutting it awfully close. "I'm here. In the kitchen."

More movement came from the doorway, probably removing his shoes and taking off his gun belt from the slight thumping and the click of metal tapping the coat rack.

"Are you making dinner?" he asked hopefully.

I stared at the stew Edward had made. "I guess so."

"You _guess_ so?" Dad chuckled. He stepped into the kitchen, still chuckling at me.

"I mean, yes I am." I wasn't sure I wanted to take credit for whatever concoction boiled on the stove. I hoped it was edible witch's brew.

"Is it almost ready?"

I peered into the pot with narrowed eyes and a nervous expression. "I guess—I mean, let me taste it first."

I grabbed the stir spoon and a bowl. I put the spoon to my mouth and sipped carefully. It was hot, but tasty. How Edward had gotten the beef in there without me noticing was amazing. And what was that spice? It was slight, but perfect. Where on God's green earth had Edward Cullen learned to cook such an amazing human dish? I tried to tell myself it was only stew, but damn it was tasty. Maybe the hike had made me too hungry to notice if it was really as good as I seemed to think.

"It's ready," I decided.

"Good. Serve me some too, please," he said. Dad settled into a kitchen chair, exhaling heavily once he was settled.

I filled two bowls and set one in front of me. I grabbed a couple spoons and sat across from him. I dove in greedily. The superb taste had me suddenly starving. Dad seemed just as eager to devour it once he'd sampled the taste. At first he'd looked skeptical, but he looked pleased now. Too bad he thought I was responsible for the food. Not that I minded the thought of Dad being impressed by me.

"How was your day?" I asked, pausing to look up from my bowl, which was nearly empty.

"Long day," he answered with a sigh. "Some strange things—but nothing to worry about. You just keep focused on grades—and fun. I'm proud of how quickly you settled into Forks. And I'd like it to stay that way." He paused to swallow more of the stew. "How was your day? You and your friends have a good time?"

I grinned. He was testing me on my cover story. My friends, all _one_ of them had a good time with me—none if you consider that we weren't exactly _friends_. "It was fun. The good weather really helped."

"It was a nice day," he agreed, smiling now. "Too bad I was cooped up indoors most of the day. Maybe next weekend I'll get some fishing in."

"That'd be great," I said enthusiastically.

He chuckled. "You make it sound like you'd want to come."

I considered it for a moment. "_Catching_ a fish is great; the waiting and preparing the worms and then the gutting parts…are not so great. I'm fine with boring old girly fun. You keep the nasty fishes."

He laughed so hard that he leaned back and tipped his chair, but he caught himself easily. He shook his head, still laughing. "It's good having you around, Bell."

"I'm glad I'm here too," I said. It was a definite truth. Despite some of the weird things, I couldn't regret coming to Forks. I never thought I could feel so at home. I hoped it would last.

I scooped up the last drops left in my bowl and went over to the pot to clean up. I put the leftovers in the fridge, scrubbed the pot clean, and double-checked that the stove was off. Sometimes when I had too much going on in my head I forgot whether stuff that needed to get done actually got done. Right now my thoughts were scrambled, mostly deciphering what to do about Edward—and what to do about Edward someday meeting my father—and so I made sure to go over the kitchen twice to make sure I hadn't missed anything. Edward was precise in erasing any evidence he'd been there.

"Any plans for tonight?" Dad plopped his empty bowl beside the sink.

"Nope," I said, and honestly I didn't. Although I had a hunch that my non-plans wouldn't mesh with whatever Edward had planned.

"You sure? You seem…"—he shrugged—"I don't know, in a hurry."

I almost laughed, but bit my lip to stop myself. For a second I'd thought I'd drawn blood, but I'd just pinched the skin between my teeth. I wrote myself a mental note to never try that again.

"I'm just still excited from all the fun fun fun that happened today!" I backed toward the doorway. "I'm just gonna go to my room, read for a bit, and then sleep."

"It's Saturday night," he said, disbelief in his voice. "You're going to bed early on a Saturday night?"

"Like I said, had a lot of fun, so I'm good. Good for, like, a whole week," I fibbed. "Plus I like to read a lot. It could be hours of reading before I'm ready to sleep."

"Alright." He looked me over, suspicious. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I returned. I spun and went to the stairs.

I reached my room and searched for any sign of Edward's presence. When I didn't find him, I looked at my closet. It felt silly to think he'd hide in the closet, but he was a little creepy sometimes, so I checked. With my closet doors wide open, and Edward still nowhere to be found, I felt my heart drop to the floor. Why had I gotten my hopes up? Worse, why had Edward sneaking into my room been a hopeful thing? Something was wrong with me.

I rolled onto my bed, belly-up, and closed my eyes. My heart was still rolling on the floor somewhere. Maybe I would be reading for hours, just to distract myself from my disappointment.

I wasn't sure how long I was lying there, not much more than a minute, but I realized that the feeling of being watched had grown. There was a definite chill running up my spine. I felt cold fingers touch my cheek. My eyes sprang open.

Before I could scream I swallowed the sound, gasping instead of screaming.

Edward. Did he have to be so _stealthy_?

I slid back from him into a sitting position. He moved only slightly, either unaware of how much he'd scared me or unaware that such close proximity after scaring someone was frowned upon.

I took a couple deep breaths, hand clamped over my heart as I waited for the beating to slow to the speed I was used to. My head turned to the door. I'd left it open. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and went to the door. I shut it quietly, and then turned to Edward, my back leaned against the door.

I frowned and hid any and all traces of excitement and relief to find him there. "Hi."

"Hi," he mimicked, only his expression was merely sober and plain instead of a frown.

"So did you leave and come back or were you lurking around my house?" I teased, feeling no need to hide behind a frown anymore.

"Lurking," he said. "After I moved my car. I wanted to see your reaction to my cooking."

"I'm impressed," I confessed. I put my hands up to surrender. "It was delicious. Even as a vampire, let me just say you can cook for me anytime."

He smiled softly. "I'm glad to hear it."

I stepped away from the door, hands tucked into my back pockets. It was my room, but I felt like a stranger inside it. Just that one addition to the room, Edward, and everything was different. After the near heart attack he'd given me I was afraid to approach.

"You really have _nothing_ better to do?" I wondered. I found it hard to believe a vampire with lots of money, an expensive car, and _that ass_ would have nothing to do. Seriously, had he done everything there was to do _except_ stalk me?

"When you've lived as long as I have, it's all been said and done," he said with a shrug. "You're the most excitement I've had in a long time."

"You've _never_ met someone as interesting as me before?" I asked, fingers-crossed that the answer was yes. There was something very romantic about it.

"I've met many interesting people," he said expressionlessly. "There's an endless supply of unexpected combinations in people's personalities. There will never be an era where you can't find someone interesting."

I frowned. "Oh." Could he not read the mood? Did he have to be so honest? Even omitting the truth would've be acceptable. Just silence, and let me come to my own conclusion.

"But you're the most interesting to me," he said slyly, standing and moving toward me fluidly. He stroked his thumb against my cheek. "You're an anomaly."

I furrowed my brow. "Somehow that doesn't sound like a compliment."

He laughed. "It is."

I crossed my arms over my chest and shifted my weight onto my left leg, so that I was just an inch further from him, getting the distance I needed to keep my head clear. "I'm not convinced."

His eyes darkened. "Then allow me to convince you."

I scooted back quickly and my hand grasped the doorknob. "I don't need convincing after all."

The darkness in his eyes turned to light, soft and warm. He stayed where he was, allowing me to keep my safety net, his way of telling me he was trying to respect my wishes. He knew my rules.

"Bella," he said, as if my name were a rare jewel. "The _anomaly_ is that I can't read your mind. The interesting part is that I love you." He paused, taking a step forward. "Despite my thirst for your blood…my desperation for the rest of you makes that thirst pale in comparison."

I raised an eyebrow and lifted the corner of my lips. "Define what you mean by 'the rest of you'…"

His hand touched my neck, gently caressing my skin, moving over my shoulder. "Heart, body…and soul."

"All of me," I summarized. "You want all of me."

He laughed. "Yes. All of you." He paused, his hand firm on my shoulder. "Which part of me do you want?"

My face reddened. The audacity.

"Honestly, I just thought you looked really hot," I teased, composing myself. "But if you want a better answer you have a lot to prove to me first."

"Another test," he mused. "So what should I do? Slay a dragon for you?"

"Nothing that big. Maybe slay a few wasps. I don't like wasps."

He rolled his eyes. "What do I have to do—really?"

"Patience," I told him. "That's lesson number one."

"Rome wasn't built in a day," he quoted tiredly.

"_Exactly_," I congratulated, patting him on the shoulder.

I pushed away from him and went over to my dresser. It wasn't that late (for a Saturday night, as Dad had pointed out) but still the hour showing brightly on my alarm clock raised a question. "How long are you planning to stay?"

"Forever," he answered.

I rolled my eyes and spun to face him. "I meant how long _tonight_," I clarified. "You said you were lurking. You may have nothing better to do, but I'm sure your family"—I nodded my head sharply once—"will be wondering where you are…_unless_ they already know." I narrowed my eyes. "How much have you said to them by the way?"

He shrugged. "Everything."

"Even that you sneak into my house at night and watch me in my sleep?" I had my doubts.

"Yes."

Now I had my doubts about his family. Were all vampires weird, or was it just a select few, like the Cullens? What about the coven in Alaska? Were they stalkers too? Were they overly friendly like Alice? Or were they anti-friendly, like Rosalie? I shook my head. I was a little curious to meet these weirdo vampires now.

"They're okay with you creeping into an under aged human girl's bedroom at night to listen to her talk in her sleep?" I had my finger-crossed that he'd left the details out, because I was very worried about who these monsters were if he said yes.

"I wish you wouldn't put it that way," he said slowly, looking a little offended.

I shrugged and raised my eyebrows. "It's the truth, Edward. Sometimes the truth hurts." I paused. "But you didn't answer my question."

"Alice approves," he admitted, "but I wouldn't say the rest of my family encourages my behaviour—you could even say they dislike me spending _any_ time with you."

I bobbed my head and hid my smile as the Hallelujah Chorus sounded off in my head. Finally proof that not every Cullen was a stranger to morality. I had my doubts about meeting any of them face to face—not counting seeing Jasper and Emmet in the cafeteria—but maybe they weren't as scary as Rosalie, as crazy as Alice, or as clingy as Edward. I'd met Esme once, but it had been too brief to know anything about her. If she disapproved of stalking, then she was okay in my books.

I faced my drawers again, bending down to the lowest one, rummaging through to find an appropriate pajama set. "So, my other question that you answered oddly—how long are you staying—_tonight_?"

"As long as you'll allow me to," he murmured with a hopeful tone. He obviously wanted to stay forever, just like he'd said the first time.

I stood, with pajamas in hand, and thumped the drawer shut with my foot. "Fine. Stay as long as you want—but you're going to be bored for a while because I'm headed for the shower and you cannot come with me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he assured me, but there was too much teasing in his tone for me to be assured.

"Seriously, stay put," I ordered.

"I'll wait," he promised.

"Goodbye." I slipped out the door, shutting it behind me—just in case Dad walked by—and whisked away into the bathroom.

Just to be spiteful, I took my time in the bathroom. I let the hot water of the shower soak through my skin, drenching my hair as the shampoo bubbled and rinsed out. I was extra thorough with my teeth and even decided to floss—which I tended to intentionally forget every so often. I even dried my hair.

I realized at the end of all my washing and prepping for bed, instead of just making him wait, I'm been pampering a little. Now it would look like I intentionally wanted to look my best for him, when really I…well, I didn't know what I'd wanted him to think. Now I was worried I hadn't prepared myself enough. I looked down at my pajamas; pale blue shorts and a black t-shirt that was triple my size—which was great for sleepwear and terrible for making a good impression. Maybe I should've grabbed the top with the lace; it was a little more impressive.

I paced the bathroom floor—which wasn't more than a couple feet across, so it was more that I did several turns. I debated not coming out at all. Ever. I wasn't dressed for the occasion. I wasn't sure I should count it as an occasion. A normal couple would try to be sneaky and quiet if they boy was in the girl's bedroom without permission. A normal vampire and girl would…the vampire wouldn't give a damn about noise. He'd just have his snack and leave. And the girl would be wearing something provocative but camera friendly. So where did that leave Edward and I? I still hadn't decided if I wanted him here. I decided that regardless of whether or not I wanted him here, I didn't want him to think I did. I messed my hair and tried to walk out wearing the least impressed expression I could muster.

I tiptoed from the bathroom across the hall. The TV was on downstairs. Dad would be up a little longer. I opened the door to my room and tossed my clothes into my laundry basket.

When I looked over at Edward, he looked disappointed. He was looking me over, taking in my not-short-enough shorts and my boyish top. He seemed to agree that I should've worn the lacey top. Seeing his disappointment had changed my mind though; I pretended I'd worn the t-shirt on purpose, to spite him. It wasn't an occasion. This was another test. If he really wanted to be here, then he'd have to love me as is, no trade-ins or adjustments.

I sat next to him on my bed. "Do you still want to stay?"

"Have you changed your mind about wanting me to stay?" he questioned. He was motionless, a statue except for his mouth.

"If I had, would you go?"

"Not tonight."

"Of course," I grumbled. I went to my bookshelf and trailed my fingers against the spines. One of them would be the subject of my next test. If Edward really wanted to stay he'd have to accept that I would ignore him, because I hadn't invited him, so he wasn't welcome until I did. He needed to learn that lesson if he really wanted to be my…boyfriend? That still seemed like too small a word.

Edward draped a hand over my shoulder, pulling my hair back over my shoulder. I shivered, feeling his fingers threaded through my hair. I shook him off and turned around. He had no qualms about personal space. It was annoying. It was too hard to hide how I felt about him when he was that close.

"You're mad that I'm staying." It wasn't a question; he knew it was true.

"I didn't invite you in, did I?" I'd tried to cross my arms, but he was too close, so I'd touch him if I moved. So I remained still, like an animal in the forest listening for any movement, frightened that something unexpected could happen at any moment. Being with Edward was already an unexpected thing. I wasn't ready for anything more.

"I promise I won't do anything that would hurt you," he whispered. His forehead touched mine, his hand touched my neck, and he'd closed his eyes. He didn't breathe.

I certainly did. I tried to take deep breaths. I tried to be calm. But he was tempting me again. He was making the right moves, scaring me in the right kind of way. I was scared that another moment like this would pass without anything happening.

Edward's head snapped back suddenly. He faced my window, eyes pinched, his expression strained as if listening for something.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied. It was obvious something had worried him, and for once it wasn't because of something I'd said or done. There was something happening outside my window, somewhere in the distance, that had caught his attention, in the worst way.

"Seriously, Edward, what's wrong?" I tried to move toward the window, hoping I could see what he'd seen, but Edward grabbed my arm and held me back. "I don't like being lied to."

"I'll explain tomorrow," he said as he released my arm. He kissed my forehead and grinned, mocking me even as he cherished me. "I don't want to frighten you." He closed his arms around me, a gentle warning to keep away from the window for now.

"I don't like not having answers to my questions either," I muttered. "It's a lot like lying."

"I promise to tell you tomorrow," he assured me.

I allowed myself to relax against his body. His lack of temperature should have been off-putting, but he held me too gently, too lovingly to resist. I don't think there could be another being in the entire world that could hold me like that. Perhaps I was just a dopey teen with a strong crush, but it really felt like there was no one like Edward, no one else who could be my match. Maybe he'd brainwashed me. I didn't care. To quote _Gone With the Wind_, I'd think about it tomorrow. I couldn't think about it today. I'd spent too much time thinking about it only thinking and getting nowhere. What was so wrong with simply _feeling_ and _reacting_ for a change? I was done avoiding my feelings by placing rationality roadblocks. Whatever Edward had been distracted by was nothing for me to worry about. If it were really all that important he'd tell me now. If I wanted to fully resolve my trust issues, I'd have to start trusting him.

"You'd tell me if it were life-threatening, right?" I asked, letting my worries get the better of me. But it was just one more question to ease my mind. What could it hurt?

"Would you like to know more about my family?" He had dodged my question.

It irked me for a moment, but I'd told myself to let it drop, so I would. "I thought you'd told me everything already?"

"Hardly," he laughed. "I've lived with them much longer than you've been alive. Longer than your parents have been alive. It's impossible to tell all of that in one sitting."

"I guess you're right." There was an entire lifetime of stories I probably had yet to hear. I was curious. "Does Rosalie hate humans?"

Edward laughed and pulled back to narrow his eyes at me. "Why would you think _that_?"

I shrugged. "We had a talk once. It was confusing. I don't know whose side she's on."

Edward frowned. "She's on her family's side. But if she were to choose…"

"She'd choose to destroy all humans rather than hurt her family," I guessed. I rolled my eyes. "I figured."

"That's not what I was about to say," he corrected. "If she were to choose between being who she is now and being human, she'd choose to be human."

I pushed back and stared long into his eyes, trying to guess why he'd think that. Rosalie was admirable, enviable, in every way. What had she lost becoming a vampire that she could only have as a human?

"Rosalie found Emmett, who brought her love and happiness," he continued. "She hadn't expected anything close to that. She hadn't expected to care for us as her family." He paused, his voice lowered, his eyes fixed on mine as if to say he was about to tell me a secret I must never repeat. "Rosalie's greatest desire above all things was to have a family; to have children; to grow old with her husband somewhere peaceful. She envies humans for the opportunities they have, the chance to change and grow."

Of course, what other reason could there be? Change was the only thing a vampire couldn't have. I dropped my eyes and sighed. "I get it."

"She's happy now, Emmet and Rosalie plan to get married again after they graduate—again—and he gives her some small measure of the life she'd dreamed of having." Edward's lips lifted, but the smile wasn't complete. "My family accepted what they are and have no regrets. Rosalie has that one regret, but she still has happiness. Being a vampire is a curse packaged as a gift."

"So you're not happy," I guessed.

Edward's eyes widened for a moment. He motioned to shake his head, but he froze. "Why would you think that?"

"You said your family accepted it, not 'my family and I'," I explained. "And when you're happy, you don't tend to describe your life as a curse."

"There are many things I have struggled with since becoming what I am," he answered, slow and quiet, "more so since I met you."

I frowned. Was this his way of saying…I brought him unhappiness? Then why hold me so closely? I couldn't understand.

"But since meeting you I have never felt so close to being…"—he searched his mind for the right word, his eyes bearing into mine, until he smiled—"happy."

I blushed. "I'm happy to hear it."

"I love my family, and I have always been grateful to find them, but a part of me always regretted being a vampire," he said. "But with you…I feel like you're the reason I was meant to become what I am. If I had died ninety years ago I never would have found you, Bella."

I tucked my hair behind my ear. "That's definitely true."

"So I find myself very grateful to be cursed."

I peeled my head back and tried to get a good read of his expression. "You're an odd one, Edward," I told him, "and I unfortunately find that irresistibly interesting. Like a puzzle, once I started putting the pieces together…tell me, how can I stop?"

He kissed my temple, lips lingering a second too long. He'd tried to hide his expression with that linger, but traces of it were there still when he pulled away. "I hope you're up to the challenge," he said, and he truly meant it. He was afraid I wouldn't be, but wanted nothing more.

As long as Edward wanted me, I was sure I didn't have a choice. I'd _have_ to be up to the challenge. If I gave up now there'd be no hope for Edward. I had a terrible feeling that although vampires probably aren't afraid of much—save werewolves—Edward was very afraid of being alone. Maybe he hadn't always been, but after meeting me I think he must have realized there was a reason his entire family had paired off. There must be a reason why Rosalie could probably have any man on the planet and yet she was unhappy be young and beautiful forever.

"Would you like to meet my family?"

The question caught me off guard. Actually it took all the words from my tongue and made me brain scrambled eggs, fried and done. No, I didn't want to meet anymore of them than I had to.

"Why?" I asked, because outright refusing seemed immoral.

"I'd like you to meet them," he said, "and I know they'd like to meet you, formally."

My head felt light. I moved to my bed and sat down. A bed nearby was good, in case I fainted.

Edward knew his family wanted to meet me. I bet they wanted to invite me to dinner—nay, to _be_ dinner. I hadn't ever met a boyfriend's parents before—not that my list of boyfriends was long, since my list had only existed since recently. As if the whole 'meet the parents' wasn't already a nerve-inducing arrangement, I was meeting vampire parents. And why did I have to go first? I guess I had decided that I wasn't ready to introduce Dad to Edward and visa versa—but did that automatically mean I'd missed my turn and now I had to meet the Cullens? I think dizzy was what I was feeling, maybe a tad nauseous too.

"What are you so nervous about?" Edward asked. He took my hand. Maybe he measured my pulse when his fingers touched my wrist, but maybe his vampire ears had already picked up on the increased rhythm.

"Vampires, Edward," I confessed, since I was all about honesty recently. "I am nervous about vampires. Meeting your _vampire_ family. Meeting your vampire _parents_."

One brow lifted slowly. He seemed to think that was the least of my worries.

"You'll be safe," he said, as if mere words could assure me. "Not only would they never harm you, but I swear that I would never let anyone lay a hand on you." He smirked and leaned close. "I swear no fang or claw will ever touch you."

"Except yours," I said under my breath. I thought it was meant to be funny, but I realized after I said it that it was malicious, spoken only out of panic but…well, it came out wrong.

"If there is one thing I can promise you with absolute certainty," he spoke quietly, with sadness straining his voice, "and if that promise can't be that I will never hurt you, know this, Bella. I will never let anyone else hurt you. I'd die for you, kill for you, do anything in my power so that you always find reasons to smile."

The nervousness in me swooned and made room for the growing heat that swelled up from my heart, tingling in every inch of my body, from fingertips to toes. For a moment, I was so happy that I forget that his little speech was meant to convince me to meet more vampires. I forgot that jumping to these sorts of feelings so quickly in a relationship was irrational and stupid. And that moment ended when I remembered all those things. It made me…sad, to realize how much he loved me. If we didn't up happy together we'd end up miserable apart. There wasn't another road, another destiny, another metaphorical whatever, for Edward there was only this. It didn't matter to him anymore whether we'd work out or we wouldn't—because maybe he was a little too obsessive and I was a little too love struck. So he wanted me to meet his family because for him it was all or nothing, and he was aiming for having it all.

"I'll meet your family, Edward, formally," I accepted, no longer reluctant. "If that's what you want."

"I would be grateful," he agreed. He held my hand tighter.

"Then I will." Saying no wasn't an option.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sorry for the long wait...I probably don't have any readers anymore... Huh... I'm just an exceptionally forgetful  busy person. I had about one more sentence for this chapter and it would be finished...several months ago, and yet, I waited until tonight at midnight to do it. Yay! But I have been busy...being human and all, because people are by nature busy little bees. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER!

PS Have y'all seen Breaking Dawn Part 1? I watched it. I did. There was a werewolf mini-battle. YES. Good decisions directors/writers/etcs! Let's have a bigger battle in the next one, kay? Also, love how very 'Snow White' Miss Stewart looks at the end. Makes me have hopes for Snow White and the Huntsman! Which, pretty sure, comes out this week. I'll be seeing that. Will you?

Thanks again for reading! I hope you comment! I adore reading comments, even to tell me what's not working! Thanks!


	16. Chapter 15: The Cullens

_15. THE CULLENS_

THE MUTED LIGHT OF ANOTHER CLOUDY DAY woke me. I lay still with my eyes closed, remembering yesterday. I'd promised I'd meet Edward's family. Actually, there had been a few promises exchanged, but that was the one weighing on my mind. Getting up meant facing that promise.

When I rolled onto my side, my fingers touched paper. I opened my eyes and picked up the paper, folded in half, with writing enclosed.

"Edward went home for a change of clothes."

I would have panicked, but the voice was Alice's, and I had convinced myself that her doing something unexpected was just part of her charm.

Alice had a red and white polka dot bow in her hair, the contrast against the black reminding me a little of Minnie Mouse. She wore a cherry red blazer over a white blouse, a matching red miniskirt, and earrings made of glass disks that reflected everything around like a mirror. "Good morning, Bella," she said, her red lips stretched into a full grin. "I thought you might need help with your wardrobe, bestie!"

I didn't even roll down the bed sheets. I wasn't ready for the day to begin. "Bestie?" I asked.

"That's what best friends call each other, isn't it?" Alice pouted her lips.

"No." I shook my head. I wasn't getting stuck with that manner of address. "I mean some do, but we can just call each other by name."

"Oh." Alice's eyes dropped to her knees. "I'm sorry. I'm new to this best friends thing. I guess I need to do more research."

"You've never had a best friend before?" I smiled. I shouldn't have, but it was both adorable and pitiable to hear I had one thing over Alice Cullen. Sure I hadn't been able to _maintain_ a best friend relationship, but I'd definitely had one or two when I was a kid. Wealth and beauty couldn't buy friends after all. It was good to know. I felt better for humanity, but worse for Alice.

"I've never had any friends before," she admitted with a fast shrug. "Maybe I did when I was human, but I can't remember. Rosalie is like a sister to me, but we haven't always gotten along. I suppose I could start counting her as a best friend, but I've always considered Esme to be my mother and if Rosalie is suddenly my friend and not just my sister…where would I draw the line?" She shrugged again. "I think it's better to keep it separate."

I raised my hands in surrender. "Whatever makes you happy. I'm not here to judge."

Alice smirked. "You say that, and yet you do tend to judge, Bella. It's human nature."

I frowned. I didn't _like_ being told that, but I couldn't argue. Anyone who said they had never judged anyway was a liar. It didn't feel good to be called on it though.

"So did I hear you say something about my wardrobe?" I rolled back the covers and stood in front of my mirror. Not a rat's nest, but still in need of brush.

"Yes. Unless you want to meet the family in your pajamas." Alice giggled.

I rolled my eyes and turned from the mirror. "I was planning on getting dressed, Alice."

"I looked through your closet while you were asleep," Alice critiqued, lips pursed, shaking her head, completely unaware of the personal boundaries she'd crossed (or, more likely, she didn't see them as boundaries, but rather invitations to invade). "Trust me, Bella, you need me."

I crossed my arms. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

Alice grinned, said nothing, and simply grinned. There was no hope of arguing now that she'd set her mind to it, so I thought it was better to give in. I flopped onto my bed, width-wise, stretched my arms out so that they hung out over the side of my bed and closed my eyes. I wanted fall back asleep. It was too early in the morning to feel like a fashion failure.

"I bought you something," Alice whispered beside my ear.

Trying hard to hide the curiosity she'd created in me, I sat up slowly. Alice sat beside me. She raised her hand and gestured to the shopping bags that now swamped my bedroom floor.

"I wanted to help, since I knew you'd be nervous," she explained. "So I got us a few options, in case you were feeling adventurous…and in case you weren't. The bases are covered."

I scanned over the labels. If these were all for me, it was safe to say she'd spent more on me today than I'd probably spent in my life. I rarely went shopping in the stores she did (I didn't even consider the Gap financially acceptable), and based on the number of shoeboxes I spotted, she overestimated my ability to wear more than sneakers and the occasional ballet flats.

"Why did you do this?" I got onto my knees. The bags beckoned. I was afraid, but wanted to get it over with. I was also unexpectedly excited, and unsure when clothing had become so important in my mind. "You need to take it back. I can't pay you back for all this."

"Don't think for another second about costs or reasons," Alice said. She put her hand on my shoulder. "It's a gift. To my first real friend."

I smiled and stood, putting my arms around her. "Thank you, Alice."

Alice was stiff at first, just a split second, and then she squeezed me tightly. "I'm so glad we're finally hitting it off. I knew we would, but it still _feels _good." She released me. "So what's your mood for the day. Are you willing to try heels?"

I snorted. That's how forceful the laughter had been—I _snorted_ with laughter. I was not in the mood for heels; I was just barely in the mood to be awake. "I said I appreciate this, but one step at a time, please."

"Well how about I get you in a dress, or a skirt," she suggested. "That'll be a refreshing change. I'm sure Edward would love that."

I hid my blush by turning away. "Alice, thanks for coming over, but I really need to shower. My hair is awful and it needs to be re-done. I'll just meet you there—"

"I can wait," she insisted.

I looked up. Why was I surprised? I grabbed a bra, underwear, and my housecoat and opened the bedroom door. "I'll be quick then."

"Take your time," she assured me. "I know I don't seem like the patient sort, but when it comes to grooming I understand _any_ amount of time is reasonable."

I laughed quietly and shut the door. I looked down the hall to see if Dad was up yet, but the door to his room was closed so I couldn't tell for sure. I locked the bathroom door and undressed. The water warmed slowly. By the time the heat came I was frozen, so I turned it up and absorbed the heat as it poured warmer then hotter, until my skin turned pink. I wasn't sure if the chill I felt that morning was because of the cloudy day, or the cold start to my shower, or because of the foreboding feeling I tried to ignore when I thought of meeting Edward's vampire family. The hot water woke me up though, and even managed to push aside that chilling foreboding. When I finally felt alive again I turned the heat down, to avoid completely scalding my skin.

As Alice had said, I groomed to my heart's content taking as much time as I wanted. I dried and straightened my hair. Then I put on my undergarments and robe and left the bathroom. The air was so much cooler in the hallway. I shivered as I entered my room. Alice had opened the window. It was even cooler in my room now.

"Straight hair. Hm." Alice narrowed her eyes. "At first I thought we should curl it, but perhaps you're right…maybe."

On my bed Alice had lain out as many items that would fit. On the floor, she'd taken every shoe out of its box for me to sample. There was new jewelry on my dresser. It was overwhelming. I didn't have any room to walk.

"So what do you want to try on first?" Alice waved her arms like a model on TV showing off the prizes.

"I'm not trying all this on right now, Alice."

"I know that, Bella, of course we don't have all day." Alice's phone buzzed. She checked the new message and then texted back so fast her fingers were a blur. "Edward is being impatient. He texted me twenty-seven times while you were in the bathroom. That makes twenty-eight in the last thirty-five minutes."

I laughed. "And I thought I was nervous."

"He wants it to go well for you," Alice said with a wink. "This could be a very lasting impression."

I nodded once. "Okay. I feel like you're dropping a hint."

She waved her hand at me to brush the idea away. "It doesn't matter, not yet. What matters is getting dressed. Esme wants you to be there for lunch."

My face dropped. My skin solidified. The room wasn't just cold now; it could have snowed.

"Not that kind of lunch, Bella," Alice told me. She lay on my bed and laughed. "She's been trying to make some recipes, and she wants to see if she's as good at cooking as she was when she was human. It's been a while since we've had to feed humans. We've had tea and some store-bought snacks, but that's about it."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Being this paranoid wasn't helping. As if Esme was going to have me for lunch. I hadn't even met the family yet. If I was going to be eaten, they first had to decide they didn't like me. One step at a time, Bella, calm down. It was going to go well. It had to go well.

Alice finally got me to agree on a dress. I wore a canary-yellow cardigan over an above-the-knee dress. The pattern was floral; the top half was white with a thin bowknot front-and-centre red sash at the waist. The print was large peach-coloured roses, darkening to red the closer the pattern got to the hem, with hints of yellowish-green leaves in the spaces between the flowers. Alice made me agree to red heels with a rounded toe (I told Alice that pointed toes bother me and I said it with enough confidence that she didn't say another word on the subject). Wearing heels was the price I paid for gaining so many new clothes and shoes, and Alice would have me wear it all whether I liked it or not.

Alice decided straight didn't suit the look. She gave me the loose curls I'd never been able to achieve on my own. She did my make-up, at her insistence—and at my insistence she made it light and only just noticeable, although more than I was used to. I picked my own jewelry, but Alice would shake her head insistently or nod her head slightly whenever my hand hovered over something she had an opinion about. I decided on small flower earrings made of red stone—or maybe it was plastic, but it looked more precious than that.

"Anything else you'd like to add?" I offered. I did a spin.

"Will you allow me to add something?"

"No." I laughed. I'd been primped enough. I actually loved how I looked. Alice had worked hard to turn this Cinderella into someone worthy of dating Prince Cullen, but I couldn't take anymore. If I did anything more I wouldn't be me. I wanted to look pretty, but not look like someone else.

"My car is outside." Alice hooked her arm through mine. "It's not as old as yours, but I think you'll see that it has character too." She led me through the door and down the hall.

"Alice, I haven't had breakfast," I reminded her. "Can't I at least make a slice of toast?"

She wagged her eyebrows and led me down the stairs. She pointed her hand toward the breakfast table. There was a small, but acceptable plate of scrambled eggs and toast with jam waiting for me. "Don't get anything on your dress," she warned. She held up a cloth napkin and tucked it over the top of my dress.

"You've thought of everything haven't you?" I sat down to a delicious-looking breakfast. It was hard to believe she didn't eat human food. Like Edward she seemed to be able to cook without a human sense of taste or smell. Vampires were kind of scary good at living in a human world.

Alice sat across from me. Her elbows were on the table, her chin resting on her palms, leaning so far forward she almost invaded my side. "It's important you feel that you fit into Edward's world, and if having a sufficient breakfast helps with that, then, yes, I thought of it."

"Thanks." I forked some eggs into my mouth. Normal egg taste was a safe sign. Alice and Edward were both passable cooks.

"After all you're the one," she said with a smile the size of Texas.

I choked on a chunk of toast. I coughed and cleared my throat. I sipped from a glass of orange juice. When I felt like I could breathe again, and met Alice's eyes, eyebrows knitted together. "Excuse me? Isn't that a little too soon?"

"I can see the future," she said through a tight jaw, her grin unwavering. "I know Edward's past. He's never even tried before. I've actually introduced him to a dozen girls or so and he's only engaged in polite conversation. Rosalie tried to hook him up with a few of her friends too—even Jasper tried once. Not a single bite—and that was a fishing metaphor, sorry. My bad. The point is you're the only person, besides his immediate family, that has held his attention for more than a day. You've beaten the record by a long-shot."

"Just because you know he's never dated anyone this exclusively before this, doesn't mean he can't in the future," I said. I put my cleared plate and empty glass in the dishwasher. "And I'm pretty sure Edward said the future you see doesn't always happen exactly as you see it. You can change it sometimes. Maybe Edward and I will break up, or I'll get really old and die and then he'll start dating all the pretty girls."

Alice moved when I blinked, and suddenly stood beside me. She smiled sadly up at me. "There are some things I know might happen, things I see and hear that have yet to exist. There are also some things that can't be changed, the things that are felt. This is exactly that. Bella, for good or for bad, this is Edward's one chance. I feel this. I know it can't be changed."

I pressed my palms against the counter behind me, eyes nervously tracing over my ruby shoes. I clicked my toes together once, as if I could wake up from my life, which resembled reality less and less everyday. "I hope you're wrong," I said quietly.

Alice reached for my hand, placing her cool fingers over mine. "I'm not."

I squeezed her hand once, and then stood. "Then let's hope this ends well."

"First let's start well," Alice bargained. She jangled car keys. "Edward is going to be so pleased. I can't wait!"

Outside was parked a convertible Volkswagen, a blue bug with the top down. Alice held open the passenger door for me.

"Your chariot, madam." She held out her hand for me. When I didn't take her hand she elegantly bowed and closed the door once I was in. She zipped into the driver's seat in the time it took my to blink.

"I like this better than Edward's," I admitted. "Much cuter."

Alice wagged her brow. "I know. Usually I go for speed, but there was just something that called me to this cutie."

Alice's phone rang again. I didn't see her reach for the phone, but she groaned as she started the car, and said "Edward has now decided he wants to drive you over so that he can prep you for meeting the family. He just hates that I stole you from him." She pulled onto the road, definitely driving more than the permitted residential speed limit. "But you're mine for the morning, Bella. He can't have you."

I gripped my seat with my left hand and held onto the car door with my right. "Why are we going eighty? Isn't this a little, I dunno, illegal?"

Alice cackled. "Live a little, Bella!" she shouted. "You're in a car with a vampire. What's the worse that can happen? I've never been in a car accident in all the time I've been alive. I'm not about to start now. Besides, if we get pulled over for speeding I'll just _suck his blood_"—she said this with a Romanian accent—"and he won't be able to give us a ticket."

Horror flushed through my skin. "My dad is a cop."

Alice's lips pressed together as she restrained a laugh. "I'm sorry, that was a joke." She shrugged one shoulder. "I keep forgetting that you always assume that worst and are unfortunately incapable of taking anything lightly."

The horror subsided as the feeling of indignation arose, colouring my cheeks. "I don't assume the worst with normal people—and I am capable of taking things lightly, I'm just not used to you yet. Any normal person would jump to some negative conclusions. Can you honestly tell me you've never murdered anyone?"

"Yup," she piped.

I had planned to rant on, but my stopped, mouth open, tongue twisted by her unexpected response. "…What?"

"I've never killed anyone, and I've been a vegetarian vampire for as long as I can remember," she revealed, her expression oddly humble for someone with her record. "But I am an exception, so I understand why you think the worst of us. I'm not going to lie to you, Bella. Every member of my family has slipped up, and some of us have slipped up a lot. What you need to remember is that we regret those slip-ups, and we're better at restraining our appetites because of it. We've grown with every mistake. None of us will ever hurt you, I swear, Bella."

"So you've never accidentally hurt someone or drank human blood because you didn't realize how hungry you were until it was too late?" I asked.

She was silent.

Instead of giving into the feeling of fear, I rephrased my question. "You've never critically injured someone or killed anyone?"

"Never," she answered.

"But Rosalie has," I guessed.

Alice drummed her fingers along the steering wheel once. "Rosalie's story is a little more complicated. I can safely say she's never accidentally hurt or killed anyone."

Rosalie's threat in the bathroom came back to me. Whatever Rosalie's story was, she'd killed people _purposely_ in the past. If I wanted to live, I had to keep my promise to her.

We drove out of the residential area, taking a road I'd never been down before, at least not that I could remember. It was unpaved, made of dirt and the occasional stone that fly up beside the car. There were only a few houses scattered up ahead, far apart with large yards on all sides, and large houses. It made a lot of sense to me, for vegetarian vampires to keep as much space between the human populace as they could, to encourage they stick to their diet.

Now that we were in a road that was unlikely to be populated, my need to hold on for dear life faded. My need to know more about the people I was meeting took the forefront of my thoughts. "What about Jasper and Emmett?" I asked, expecting an answer that put them between Rosalie and Alice. "They're in school all the time, so they must have a lot of control too."

"Emmett had a rocky start," she confessed with a shaky laugh, "but Rosalie supervised his training like a drill sergeant. I can't say he wouldn't be tempted—he'd be hella tempted, but he could resist. Except…there are some people that seem to have been born with just the perfect taste for one vampire alone…" She frowned. "Emmett was unlucky enough to come across one such person fifteen years ago. Took him completely by surprise. Killed him before Emmett even knew what was happening."

My eyes nearly rolled back into my head, but I was comforted by the thought that Emmett had been in the same hallway as me a few times, and he hadn't suddenly turned and eaten me, so I was probably safe. Alice didn't seem worried either, just a tad disappointed.

"Jasper is another story," Alice warned. "Edward just texted me—_again_—and asked me to remind you that you have no obligation to come within five meters of Jasper. That's so rude. Edward is really being too overprotective."

"So, Edward is overreacting?" I held onto a sliver of hope, since Edward was a little clingy, and it only made sense he wanted to keep all other people at a distance from me.

Bad, Bella, _bad_. Alice was right about me automatically assuming the worst. I really needed to fix that. Edward wasn't used to this situation either. It wasn't his fault his actions were a bit…awkward. He'd promised to give me some breathing room, so this clearly wasn't about that.

"I admit Jasper finds our lifestyle challenging," Alice murmured, almost too low for my to hear. "He had a very different upbringing. He hasn't killed anyone in a while."

"How long is a while?"

"With Edward and I nearby, you'll never be in danger," Alice promised, skating over my question entirely.

I waited a moment, hoping Alice might choose to elaborate, but she gave me only silence. The amount of trees on either side of the road increased, first a few, then a dozen, then the forest and shrubbery became so thick that shadows fell over the road. The whole world seemed darker. I shivered. Silent and dark and headed straight for a vampire lair—I desperately needed to stir the conversation again to distract me from my thoughts.

"Fine then," I said, "let's move on to the final three."

"Esme and Carlisle have never killed even a single human between them," Alice answered cheerily. "It's quite inspiring, considering how many vampires Carlisle has befriended that are practically blood-aholics. Carlisle and Esme have made a living out of controlling their blood-thirst—seriously impressive choosing to be vampire doctors."

I nodded. "It is impressive. Esme has a wonderful reputation from what I've heard. The student body might avoid give you a wide girth, but the people in town fly to her like she's honey. My dad talks about her more often than I'd like, really."

"That's because she's the warmest vampire you'll ever meet," Alice said, her face glowing as she spoke of her adoptive mother. "It may not be as formidable as my superpower, but it's certainly more wonderful."

Her choice of word struck me. I'd met Esme once. There was something in her that wasn't like most people, or most vampires—at least the few I'd spoken to. For the second before I'd implied that I knew Edward's secret, I'd felt like I wasn't meeting a stranger for the first time. There was something familiar about her.

"You'll see soon enough but, Esme has a way of making anyone feel right at home when she's around," Alice explained. "It's always a bummer when she's upset and her power turns off, like a bright light burned out."

Alice winked at me, making me very aware that my face had scrunched up as I puzzled out how to react to all we'd discussed. I was no closer to feeling ready for this meet and greet than I had been when I was forcibly pushed into it. I hoped this made Edward happy; I truly did, because it was amazingly uncomfortable for me.

"You haven't asked about Edward yet," Alice noted.

"No." I sighed heavily. "I'm not going to."

"You're not…curious?" Alice made a slight left turn, and the forest thinned slowly.

"Of course I am." I lifted my hand to shield my eyes from the renewed light. We were out of the woods, but my heart felt heavy. A question I knew I couldn't ask had been brought up. Alice was willing to give me answers that, although I wanted to know, would only make me more afraid. I didn't want to be afraid; I wanted to be brave; I wanted to try and have a happy ending, instead of viewing my life as a tragic horror story waiting to happen. Knowing Edward was a mass murder wouldn't help that. Maybe I was just assuming the worst, as Alice insisted, but deep down I knew I wasn't wrong.

"I won't tell you then," Alice whispered.

"You're not going to tell me I'm assuming the worst?" I teased.

Alice didn't smile. "I wish I could."

Before the renewed curiosity could force the question from my tongue, Alice turned to the right, following a long sharply curved road until the trees parted and revealed a road of light stones, a long stretch of green grass, and a mansion. I was utterly silenced. This was not a vampire's mansion. This was a dream home. It was a good thing Edward couldn't read my mind, because I'd be so embarrassed if he found out that I wanted exactly _this_. I wasn't a wild dreamer—but what young teen hadn't played M.A.S.H. with their school friends? Whenever I managed to land on mansion or house, this was the style I imagined. If only Austin Thompson from my eighth grade class, two kids, and a hot air balloon were waiting in the backyard, this would be a perfect replica.

The Victorian-style mansion was painted white, even the trim, but the roof shingles were light grey. The roof wasn't as pointed as I usually saw on a Victorian-style building, and the tallest part of the house had a roof that was almost flat, which made it more modern than some Victorian building that seemed more like castles than houses. There were two full levels, and then what seemed like a tower…an extra level that was about as long as an average sized-living room, but from the front I couldn't tell how deep it was, it might have been double in width. Six white-painted wood steps led up to porch that encased the front of the house, rounding at the edge to meet the ends of the house-front. The banister, too, was miraculously untarnished white—how it stayed so clean and gleaming. I suppose instead of sleeping, one of the Cullens spent the night cleaning the outside of the house…or maybe the vast amounts of rain in Forks washed it clean. There were two large windows on both sides of the porch, and double doors that met in the middle, which were also mostly made of window. It gave the mansion an appearance of openness, of welcoming, despite it looming size. The second floor had a terrace, two rooms wide instead of covering the whole second floor like the front porch did. The doors to the second floor were closed, but when Alice pulled up to the garage (which had obviously been added later, and the roof of which was much darker), I thought I caught them opening out of the corner of my eye. It was definitely classified as a Victorian mansion, not a house. I'd have been happy in the past just driving by Victorian-style homes, now I was invited into a Victorian mansion. For the first time, I felt happy about this opportunity to be invited into a Vampire's home.

After being bombarded by the charm of an old age, the automatic garage door was jarring. Inside were more cars than I cared to count. There was enough for every member of the Cullen family to drive.

"You guys have a lot of cars," I observed aloud. "Do you even have time to drive them all?"

"As an immortal, my answer is yes," Alice, nudging me her elbow, said with a giggle. "And this is just the garage Edward and I share. You should see the garage Emmett built for the collection him and Rosalie have gathered. Inside there is a car lover's paradise. Oh, and Carlisle has a few mint condition oldies stowed away too. He's got one of the automobiles made by the Duryea brothers—not sure if he's checked it lately, but if Rosalie got her hands on it, it would definitely run."

I shook my head and laughed. "You're all car gluttons."

Alice shrugged. "Probably. Except, Esme. Oh, and Jasper is a motorcycle glutton, not a car glutton, thank you very much." Alice turned off the bug and gracefully rose out of the driver's seat. Once again, she had opened the door on my side when I blinked. One of these days, I'd have to learn not to blink. Vampires took that fraction of a second and used to scare hell out of me _every single time_. I was startled enough that I took Alice's hand when she offered, that and wearing heels was uncommon for me, and I couldn't even remember the last time I stepped out of a car with heels on. Thanks to Alice, my landing was stable.

Alice led me out of the garage, and closed it behind us. Gladly, I headed to the front steps. High-heels or not, I desperately wanted the scenic tour, and if that included going up the porch stairs—and every stairwell in the place—I was fine with that. Alice seemed to have noticed a change in me, because she let me move on my own, instead of leading me. I went up the stairs, and turned right instead of facing the door. I touched my hands against the banister, admiring the thin and sparse columns that stretched from the porch floor through the lattice-style railings up to the roof above me. I looked out across the Cullen's large front lawn. There were three rows of apple trees on the left side, and three rows of peach trees.

"Esme's apple pies are infamous," Alice praised. "She always makes a bunch for the annual hospital bake-sale fundraiser. People sometimes got suspicious about how she's able to make so many, considering how much she works, so she tells people that her daughters help—which is a lie. Rosalie is terrible in the kitchen, no matter how hard she tries. I get bored. And I'm bad at making sweet things."

"And the peach trees?" I asked. It was a beautiful sight, and I couldn't control my face—I was enjoying being here. This place was so unexpected.

"Esme wants to branch out—pardon the plant pun—so we planted those a few years back," Alice said, leaning against the railing beside me. She hopped onto the banister and sat, glancing just once over her shoulder. "This is the first year the peaches grew so well. Esme will finally have some delicious material to practice with. And she'll be glad to test the recipe on you."

"Hm, just what I need, fattened up by a vampire," I teased, raising my left eyebrow. "It's a good thing eating too much pie will only clog up my delicious blood instead of improve the flavour—otherwise I'd be suspicious."

Alice hesitated, surprised by my ability to take things lightly, but joined me when I started laughing. I hoped I could feel the same frivolity when I went inside.

Alice's laughter turned into a small sigh. She hopped off the banister. "I'll leave you two alone. See you inside, Bella."

My spine straightened sharply—my automatic response to Alice's late announcement that we hadn't been alone. My straight spine was also a response to years of ballet lessons. I was kind of like Dakota Fanning in _Uptown Girls_ as a small child—well, not always, but when it came to dancing. There was no freestyle for me; I was too timid. I was convinced as a little girl that even though I wasn't good at many things, I could at least do ballet, and I had worked really hard, which had allowed me to have the posture of a ballerina even years after I gave up on my dreams of being a dancer.

When I turned to face the presence Alice had announced, relief spread my lips into a smile. "Edward. Hi." I inhaled deeply and exhaled sharply. "You spooked me. Not all the surprising, actually."

He didn't say anything. His eyes were bright today, closer to gold than brown. His lips were parted slightly, and his gaze poured over me. He looked me over head to toe twice, the first intake was slow and I felt heat rising to my face the longer the look lasted, but it was the fact the he needed to look me over again that had me flustered. I tried to push my hair behind my ears—a much too obvious nervous habit—but Alice's work (and a little hairspray) made the hair fall back instantly. I crossed my arms and turned my eyes away, but that didn't help me pretend Edward wasn't still staring at me like he could devour me whole.

"Alice did it," I said quickly. "She insisted on dressing up. It's not me, and I know it, alright? You don't have to keep staring, it's making me nervous"—my words cut-off when Edward's lips met mine. His hands grasped my upper arms and he pulled me toward him. I was already trapped between him and the railing, but it turned out to be a good thing, because I melted when he kissed me and my head spun faster than a spinning top. When Edward finally let me breathe, I leaned against the banister and tried to keep the butterflies from flying up out of my stomach and into my lungs. As my head and heart calmed down, Edward kissed my forehead lightly. The butterflies increased at his touch, but at least my head had stopped spinning.

"You're beautiful," he said. "Even more so today."

"Flatterer," I accused, but I was smiling.

Edward took my hand, kissed it, and then held it. "So you like it here?"

"I…" I bit my lip. I didn't want to come on so strong, but no doubt he'd been spying on Alice and me the second we pulled in. My opinion of the place was apparent. "It's not what I was expecting. Not a single tombstone. No cobwebs. I'm hoping there's a least one coffin on the premises or I'll be terribly disappointed."

Edward chuckled. "Is that _truly_ what you'd thought you would see?"

I half-shrugged. Maybe I wasn't naïve enough to think coffins and bats would be hanging around the house, but I didn't think I'd fall madly in love at first sight. If Alice wanted to be my best friend, it was now mandatory she invite me over for a sleepover. Sure the vampire-presence would keep me from sleeping, but Alice couldn't sleep either, so it was for the best. Alice seemed like she'd enjoy a good old-fashioned nail painting, pillow-fighting, hair-braiding party. I would use any excuse to visit my dream home.

"Would you like to come again?"

I rolled my eyes. "Can't I survive the first visit before you plan a second?" I scoffed. "But if you plan to invite me over again, you also plan on ensuring that this is a pleasant visit."

"I will do everything in my power," he assured me. He faced me and took my other hand. "I wish I could stay with you the entire time, but I promised Esme she could speak with you alone."

Forget the enchantment. I didn't care how beautiful the home was. The last thing I wanted was another one-on-one with Esme—what if she wanted what Rosalie did? Was I going to be threatened again? Did Esme me want me to make her a promise too?

No, I couldn't jump to conclusions. Esme wasn't Rosalie. Alice told me she was warm…until she turned that warmth off. Esme was like Edward's mother, so she'd only want him to be happy…assuming that Esme thought he could be happy with me. I took a deep breath for the millionth time that day and nodded my head once. I had to stop being a whiny baby. I was going to give this my all and nothing bad would happen to me. Even if we didn't get along, Alice had done her best to make it clear: Edward wanted me in his life, so his family was going to try and accommodate me. There would be no killing of the Bella. Strictly forbidden. In return, I was forbidding myself to be anything but accepting and positive about every single one of them. Except Rosalie. That ship had sailed.

"After I introduce you, I've been asked to leave you with Esme," Edward warned. "If this upsets you, tell me and I'll call the whole thing off."

I smirked and raised an eyebrow. "You don't really mean that, but thanks," I said.

Edward frowned and his eyebrows knitted together. He loosed one of my hands. He seemed to want to argue the point, but his thoughts were against him.

"You wanted me to meet your family properly, and that means a lot to you, which is why you invited me here in the first place," I added, since he seemed hurt by my disbelief, "so I'm not going to leave without meeting the people who mean the most to you."

He relaxed his brow and his frown faded. "Bella."

"The more you stall, the more nervous I am," I threatened. "Can we go in before I take you up on your offer to run away?"

He smiled again. Holding my hand still, he turned the knob of the door closest to us and pushed. His eyes never left me as he led me inside. My eyes wandered relentlessly. I found the winding stairs just to the left of the doors, more than a few feet away. I'd never been inside a house where you could fit more than five people in the space between the front door and the stairs, or another room. There was room for the entire Cullen family to stand a few feet away from Edward and me as we all stood in the gathering area. Well, not the entire Cullen family, since Alice was leaning over the stairwell banister—which was black and made of some sort of metal. Jasper was behind her, further up on the stairs, obviously keeping his distance. The rest welcomed me with their smiles—although Rosalie wasn't smiling, but she wasn't frowning either. Emmett was grinning, and it was infectious. His goofy grin made me question how someone like him could be a monster. He was more like a teddy bear. If it weren't for the size of his arms, I'd doubt he could threaten anything more than a fly with a smile like that. He was probably great with kids—if the kids didn't notice how eerily lifeless his skin was first. Even his curly brown hair made him seem bear-like.

"I am so glad to see you looking well, Bella," Esme said. Her voice gentle, her curls gentle—even his skin was soft looking, like an actress in a black-and-white 40s flick. Everything about her was soft. She wore her brown hair in a loose side-ponytail, the sunlight pouring through the windows bringing out glimmers of gold in her hair. She wore a simple green dress with a high-neckline that followed her curves, ending just above her knees. She swore nude-coloured high heels, and she stood in hers better than I stood in mine. "We're certainly meeting under better circumstances this time."

"I definitely prefer meeting this way," I agreed. "White is a much more welcoming colour in your home than in a hospital room."

She turned to Carlisle, her hand gently resting against his arm. "It's seems we brought our work home with us. I never thought about it before, but there is a lot of white in our lives." She laughed softly, and then turned back to me. "I promise not every room in the house is as colourless as the exterior."

"Oh, but I like the exterior," I said nervously, worried I'd offended with my comparison of her house to a hospital. "It's like something out of a fairytale." I regretted the words immediately. I was going in the wrong direction. The last thing a modern vampire wants to hear is that her house is a fairytale house. _Stupid_. My hands tightened, and only then did I remember Edward's hand around mine. He gave my hand a small squeeze. I met his eyes. He was trying to reassure me, but even Edward couldn't protect me from my big fat mouth.

"She _loves_ the house," Alice piped in. "If left her alone out there she'd probably set up an alter to worship. You should've seen her face."

My face was no beat red. There was nothing I could say to redeem Alice's description of me. Combine that with my ridiculous responses, it was best if Edward put a cone of shame over my head, or just a paper bag with duck tape over my mouth.

"If you really like it that much, you should come over often," Esme said, her voice smooth as warm honey. It was like she hadn't found anything Alice said unusual—and though I'm sure Alice constantly said unusual things, it was very forgiving of Esme to ignore all the evidence against me.

"I would like that, thank you," I spoke quietly, trying desperately to lift my eyes from the floor to face the Cullens. Alice had likely been trying to break the ice for me, but it had only put me in a self-contained bucket of hot water. I was the only one who felt it, and that made it all the more embarrassing. Maybe they were so bored of being constantly flawless that my flaws were enjoyable. They were all smiling at me, wanting to welcome me even after I'd proved to be nothing but ordinary, except for Rosalie whose expression had turned sour. I took that as a positive sign though.

"Edward, you are seriously out of practice, you're making us look inhuman," Alice said in a huff. She hopped over the banister and landed on her feet in front of me, just a loud tap on the floor. She wasn't just graceful; she was like a cat, dangerously light on her feet. "If you'd take a second to stop adoring Bella, you'd realize you've failed to actually introduce her to anyone."

Before Edward could argue, Alice took my other hand and tugged me forward. Edward's grip tightened for a second, but he let go once my arm had to stretch to reach him.

"You already know Esme," Alice said, "and feel free to call her by her name, you're practically part of the family now, so it's silly to be formal."

I think my face went white, but Alice ignored my reaction. She'd been dropping terrible hints for a while now. Whatever she had planned for me, I didn't like what I imagined it to be.

"Carlisle," Alice said, putting her hand on Carlisle's shoulder. She dropped my hand and placed her hand on my back. She shoved me toward him.

Carlisle was older than the rest, maybe older than Esme, but it was difficult to say since he couldn't be older than thirty. He might have been younger. His face was young and handsome; solid with a strong jaw, like an actor they'd cast as a superhero. His hair was light blonde and his eyes were golden—so he clearly wasn't hunger today. His were also the only thing about him that seemed ancient. His body was young and fit, like someone who went jogging 5 miles every morning before work—not muscular, but he was put together well. He wore a dark blue shirt, tucked in dark grey pants, but his professional attire did nothing to age his face. It was his eyes, which contained decades of memories—maybe centuries—that allowed him to keep up the ruse, that he could be the father of five practically grown-up children (adopted or not, he was still awfully young).

"It is good to finally meet you, Bella," Carlisle said, raising his right hand. I looked down at his open palm—freezing for only a second—and then raised my own right hand to shake his. He held my hand firmly, and put his other hand on my shoulder. "I am grateful for the happiness you've brought to my son's life."

"Oh." My eyes glanced down to our hands. Looking at his face added crushing expectations to his words. Alice wasn't the only one who had permanent plans for me—and it wasn't just Edward. It felt like Rosalie was the only person who thought there was a chance of me ever being separate from the Cullen family.

"You might not have noticed, but he has changed so much since he met you," Carlisle continued. He released my hand. "He was quite a downer for a number of years."

Maybe it was the sudden use of the slang word that got me, or maybe it was the light tone in which he said, but likely it was how he leaned in and cocked a brow when he met my eyes. I had to crack a smile.

"Not just years, dear," Esme added, putting her hand on his back. "Decades. He was looking miserable for decades. He barely smiled." She ran her hand along my arm once, a soft curve on her plump lips. "You've saved him."

My heels felt unsteady again, or maybe it was my increased heartbeat that offset my balance. "I, I don't know if I—"

"Enough praise, you're making her blush," Alice interrupted, "and it's making Jasper nervous."

All eyes, excluding Alice, flew to Jasper on the stairs. If he wasn't nervous before, he was now. His Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, and he looked away—the kind of glance that was obviously purposeful. He'd been put on the spot. His knuckles went white as he clenched his fists.

"It's nice to meet you, Jasper," I said, to break the silence. Maybe putting the gazes back on me might help. "I don't think Jasper is a common name, but you're the fifth Jasper I've met."

"Really?" Esme said. "Maybe it's becoming popular again. Names do go through trends."

"Five Jaspers," Emmett chuckled, "and we thought one was enough to handle."

"Met any other Alice's?" Alice bounced up beside me, giddy to hear about my adventures with same-named people.

"Alice is my grandmother's name, on my mother's side," I offered.

Alice deflated. "Oh. How nice."

"And me?" Edward asked, stepping behind me, his hands on my shoulders.

"No, you're my first Edward." I blushed.

"Before Edward gets distracted again,"-Alice narrowed her eyes at him—"Bella, I'd like you to meet Emmett."

"Last but not least," Emmett said. He grabbed me and bear-hugged me, wrenching me completely from Edward's reach, and lifting my feet off the floor briefly, then dropping my down. I teetered when my left heel touched down before the pad of my foot, but Edward put his hand against my back to steady me. Emmett clapped his left hand against my arm, shoving me slightly left, and probably bruising my right arm a little. Jasper's sharp intake of breath told me I was probably right. Bruising was, in some sense, bleeding, so a struggling vegetarian vampire would know first.

"Thanks for finally turning Edward into someone fun," he said, all of his teeth showing, sparkling white.

"Your welcome," I said, clapping him on his arm like he'd done to me. I used as much force as I could manage.

He pointed a finger at me. "I like you, kid. It's good you're sticking around."

I nodded once and then looked over my shoulder to find Edward. He looked pleased, actually he was smiling so much his teeth were showing. He and Emmett looked almost related when they both smiled so broad. The introductions had started out pathetic (primarily my fault) but had shaped up rather nicely. Emmett liked me. I think I even liked him. His smile was seriously infectious.

"Now that Bella is a little more familiar with us, I'm sure she won't mind parting from you for a short while," Esme hinted, clasping her hands together.

Alice and Jasper made themselves scarce. Rosalie and Emmett went out the front, headed for the garage was my guess.

"A pleasure to meet you, Bella," Carlisle said, patting my shoulder, and then proceeding up the stairs.

Edward kissed my forehead and stared into my eyes, as if trying to warn me telepathically. "I won't be far."

"You'll be out of earshot," Esme insisted, and then to me, "I promise you are completely safe with me."

Edward searched my face to signs of fear. Whatever Esme needed to say, I wanted to hear it, so I buried any qualms I had.

I touched his face and cocked a brow. "I think you can trust me to have a chat with your mother, Edward," I teased. "I'll be fine."

Edward nodded once, and then walked away, briskly, the front doors snapping shut behind him. I watched him take the porch steps two at a time, then he vanished in a blur across the front lawn. Out of earshot, Esme had said. However far that was, it meant I was completely alone with her. I knew she hadn't wanted to get me alone to murderer me, but somehow murderer felt like the easier option to bear. If I was lucky, she really did want to chat, about the weather or something—but I had a feeling that with Edward out of earshot, she'd want to discuss the seriousness of the complicated love-bloodlust relationship Edward and I had.

Esme invited me into her parlor, her arm elegantly sweeping me in the direction. The room, just as the exterior of the house suggested, was large. The walls were white with dark wood trim. The floor was hardwood. The couches, one loveseat facing the window and a larger couch across from it, were dark orange, simple, and curved at the corners. There was a large fireplace with wood trim and a large mantle, which was decorated with an assortment of flowers and colourful leaves preserved inside plain black frames. A painting hung above the mantle, depicting a city I didn't recognize. I suspect it was a European city, but, since my knowledge of landmarks was limited, I had no hope of puzzling the answer together. The painting also looked quite old, probably based on the look of a city that had changed a lot since the painting was made.

Esme told me I could sit down, so I chose the loveseat with my back to the window. Esme tended to the two teacups set out on a wood coffee table between the two couches. She poured for me first, then herself. The teapot was white porcelain with an elaborate floral pattern, and the cups matched. I assumed porcelain, but maybe they were real China. I didn't know the difference, but when I lifted the tea to my lips, the cup sure felt expensive in my trembling hands.

"Do you like it?" Esme said, setting the teapot down with such grace and delicacy. With the adage of vampire strength, it was impressive how gentle she could be with something so fragile.

"Yes, thanks." I took a sip. A warm cup of red tea with a hint of vanilla was exactly what I needed to fight off the chill in the air. It did occur to me that the Cullens probably didn't have heat in the house. There was a fireplace in the parlor, which was probably only used when human guests were around, to keep up the ruse that the Cullens need human comforts, like a heated house, when they could sit days in a snow-bank naked entirely unaffected.

"Do you drink herbal tea often?" Esme held the cup close to her lips, but rather than drink it she appeared to be enjoying the scent. Vampires had heightened senses, but there was only one drink that satisfied them.

"Not often, but my mother had the idea of opening a teashop in her head for years," I admitted, a little embarrassed. "My mother is always coming up ideas, and then falling back on teaching. She has trouble staying in one place, so opening a shop would've been bad for."—I laughed sadly, remembering when we drove around looking at spaces for rent until dark, mom asking my opinion of each place, as I tried to finish my homework in the backseat—"She does still drink a lot of herbal tea though. Her pantry is always full of so many different kinds. I've sampled a very wide range thanks to her."

Esme leaned forward and set down her cup. She smiled to herself. When she looked up at me, something flickered across her face, like she'd forgotten that I was there. She patted her palms on her thighs once and inhaled deeply. "Right," she said breathily, "as much as I want to have a friendly chat with you, I'm afraid we have something more serious to discuss."

I swallowed the tea too quick, some of it going down the wrong pipe, and I choked. I coughed and my hand flew to my throat. Esme half-stood, but I held out my hand and told her I was fine.

"It seems I've made you quite nervous," she said apologetically.

"It's not your fault," I said, coughing out the last of the tea in my windpipe. "Really, I'm not surprised that you need to discuss some serious things with me—I know this isn't an ordinary situation—It's really my fault…really." I bit my lip and failed again to tuck my ear behind my ears. "I'm sorry."

Esme's lips parted, her eyes full of sorrow. She rose from her seat and settled beside me, cupping my hands inside hers. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Bella," she said, her voice hushed. "You've been so very brave, and treated my son with such kindness. I know he isn't the easiest person to deal with—he's marvelously stubborn—but he's also fiercely loyal, and caring." She stroked my hair tenderly. "Edward has struggled so much to find peace with what we are, to find the right balance, to find the _humanity_ in what we are. He's always distanced himself." She closed her eyes and shook her head once. "Even though I know we're in his heart, he's so closed off that nothing made him happy. For the last few decades I've noticed that even the things that once made him smile…he's given them up. He was like a ghost, barely with us."

My eyebrows pulled together and my mouth popped open. My heart ached, hearing how miserable Edward was. Somehow, even with the family he adored, he'd felt alone. Or maybe his family was a reminder that he was alone. They were all coupled together: Carlisle and Esme, Emmett and Rosalie, Jasper and Alice. He was singular in a family of pairs.

"But that's changed," Esme said, touched my cheek, and smiled. "You've revived everything good in him."

I turned my head away, and her hand fell away. "That's a lot of credit you're giving me," I mumbled. "I don't think it's true."

Esme gave my hand a squeeze. "If you'd known him as long as I have, you'd know it was true."

The steam was gone from the spout of the teapot. My fingers wrapped around my cup. It wasn't as warm, but I swallowed a mouthful anyway. Any excuse to keep stuff my mouth to keep from rambling about how I thought she was wrong was sufficient. If only she'd brought finger-food to busy my mouth.

"The fact that it's true is what makes what I have to say…arduous." She pressed her lips together tightly and patted my hand lightly twice.

I faced her again, shifting to turn my body toward her. My brow furrowed. It was impossible to hide my curiosity. What could I possibly do for her? There wasn't much I was capable of—and certainly not capable of something that warranted the word arduous.

"I understand that your relationship with my son wasn't entirely consensual in the beginning," she said slowly, like each word was another step farther out onto a lake of thin ice.

"That makes it sound a lot worse than it was," I argued, my body stiffened. "It's more like I got swept into it…which isn't Edward's fault. Even when I was trying to ignore him I found myself looking for his face in the crowd. If I hadn't cared from the beginning it wouldn't have gotten this far. It's my fault."

Esme smiled sadly. "It isn't that I'm trying to blame this on someone, Bella, but…it does make me sad that your describe your relationship with Edward as a _fault_, like you would wish it all away if you could. It worries me that even though you've made Edward happy, the life you must now lead will make _you_ unhappy."

I shook my head and pushed myself back. "That's not true. I-I didn't mean to make it sound like that."

Esme touched her hand to my knee and leaned in close. "You want to do the right thing," she said, "and that's admirable."

"I'm not with Edward because it's the right thing to do, I—"

"Because you don't believe you've made the right decision," she interrupted, frowning. "I'm not doubting that you do care for Edward, I know you truly do. Alice has seen glimpses of your future, Bella."

Before she could say it, rose from the couch and started pacing the width of the fireplace. This wasn't what I was prepared for. What I was ready for was a either her being against or for my decision—not telling me that the road ahead was winding and rough and dangerous and probably not the path I thought it was.

"Alice has told me there are a lot of obstacles," Esme warned, "not just the ones you are already aware of, but some that even Alice can't fully predict. The day you two met, you started something. I've seen the change in him. Alice has foreseen the change in all of us. If you decide to stay with him, you'll be welcomed into our family—"

"Slow down, please," I shouted. The loudness of my voice surprised me, and so did the way it shook. I was more afraid than I'd known. "I'm sorry," I whispered, "but that's too far in the future. Or maybe according to Alice it's not, but it's not something I want."

Esme was stunned. She didn't move, didn't take a breath. Her wide eyes stared up at me, finally recognizing that we were two very different animals.

Biting my lip, I sat beside her again. My thoughts were running through my mind so fast, it was difficult to form a sentence. Once I knew I could speak calmly, I shifted toward her. To maintain my calm, I decided against looking her in the eyes. Instead I stared at her hands, which had clenched, her knuckles turned white.

"Esme, you have a wonderful family," I reassured her, "I love Edward but…nothing more than that."

"Nothing more than love?" Her voice had softened. She touched my chin and lifted so that she could meet my eyes. Her lips curved into a smile only a mother could give, a smile that said everything would be okay again. "You seem awfully convinced for someone very unsure."

I laughed, eyes fluttering down to the floor. "Sorry."

"Bella, as much as to preserve the happiness you've created in Edward's life, I also want to protect you." She smoothly slid off the couch and stood to look out the window. Light shone over her face, making everything about bright, in spite of her sad, dark eyes. "If you want it, you have my help. I swear if you want to get away from Edward, you have my blessing and my assistance. If you've convinced yourself to be with him because you're afraid, I will protect you." She turned sharply on her heels, her brow furrowed, the closest to angry I'd ever seen her. "It will only hurt Edward more in the long run if being with him is painful."

My jaw dropped. She was telling me, that I had her blessing to run away and abandon her son?

"Whatever you decide," she said, bowing her head.

My whole body was numb. I stared at her, unblinking. No thoughts crossed my mind. My heart sunk. What could I say to her now?

We stayed like that for seconds, minutes, maybe an hour. Eventually I remember to blink, slow at first, then as my eyelids fluttered, like something was in my eye. It was water. I blinked back the tears and inhaled sharply. The need to breath was crushing me. When had I started to hold my breath?

Esme touched the crown of my head, pausing there for a moment, and then drew her hand away. Her shoes clicked against the floor. She stopped again by the coffee table.

"I'll make some more tea, while you think." She dipped to grab the teapot, rose swiftly, and vanished from the room.

I listened to her footsteps, but she had moved with her supernatural speed and stealth, in a way my human ears couldn't detect. My eyes scanned the empty archway on the other side of the room, where she'd hinted earlier was the direction of the kitchen. It was quiet again. My thoughts and my slow, unsteady heartbeat were my only company.

I leaned forward and held my head in my hands. I couldn't cry. I could _not _cry. I stared blankly, repeating my mantra. _I would not cry_. _I would_ not_ cry_. I refused to give into the feeling that gnawed at every piece of my chest, squirming pressure in my intestines, pushing sharply up…up…up…toward my heart, everything pushing me, threatening to crush me. I'd forgotten to breathe. I breathed sharply. My eyes prickled. No, no, _no_. _I would not cry_.

How much had really been asked of me? It wasn't so much. I'd been asked to make a choice—a choice Edward couldn't make. Rosalie thought I had the power to make the choice, and now so did Esme. Why did they think it was a choice? I'd tried so many times to do what they were asking me to do—so why _after _I'd made the decision to stay with him people—his _family_—were telling me I could walk away? I hesitated when I was asked. If this really was love—why did I _constantly_ doubt what Edward and I felt for each other? I thought love was being head over heels constantly. It was like I was moving backward through a movie. The happy couple got past their differences, agreed to date… and then the heroine started doubting. Wasn't that supposed to happen before true love's kiss, not after? But I wasn't in a fairytale. Somehow, I kept convincing myself it would get easier, that my conviction would grow every moment we were together—but each time I was asked I wondered if maybe I hadn't tried hard enough to run away. Maybe Edward was a monster—Alice had practically confessed that he was. I wasn't some amazing woman who could change him into something better. I assumed the worst first, and that wasn't good for him, or for this family. Edward needed someone better than me. Carlisle was wrong. Emmett was wrong. Alice was wrong. I hadn't saved him. I hadn't made him fun. I wasn't the one. He deserved the one, someone wonderful who wouldn't cry over something so stupid, but that wasn't me. I didn't want to be a vampire—no matter what Alice saw in my future, I liked being human—I wanted to belong with humans—and I didn't want to hang around murderers, even reformed murderers. If I did stay with him, as a human, my life would be in danger all the time. That wasn't living, that was imprisonment. If Esme could get me out, then she should. I was out.

I got to my feet and sniffled. The room seemed small as I paced back and forth across it. The eerie stillness of the house heightened the sound of my steps on the hardwood. It seemed too often that I ran away instead of staying in one place. My mom was always running away, making decisions and then abandoning them. She'd abandoned me too; now that she had Phil. Maybe I was just like my mother, and I couldn't commit. Maybe that's what had me so afraid. Even without psychic powers I knew that Edward was a permanent part of me, an unbreakable commitment, like a scar on my heart. He wasn't something I could ever run from.

I stopped in the middle of the room and lifted my eyes to the empty teacups on the coffee table. My hands shook. Slowly, I lowered myself onto the couch and dropped my hands.

It was true that I hesitated, but it wasn't all that strange, was it? No. It wasn't stupid of me to doubt my decision. It wasn't weak to feel like I'd been pushed into it, because Edward did push me. I resisted him the whole time, and that enough was proof that I'd made the right decision. There were so many good reasons to want to walk away, and those same reasons weren't going to stop haunting me because I wanted them to. I knew that having Edward in my life meant I was going to cry a lot. I was going to be weak a lot, because there were a lot of unfixable problems. If Edward ever tried to leave me, I would let him go. But until then, I would hold onto him with everything I had. Just because I was shaken didn't mean the connection could be broken.

From another room, I heard high notes of a piano played. My ears tuned just in time to recognize the tune. I stood and followed the sound. I crossed the main hall to the adjacent room on the opposite side of the stairs. Sliding doors were closed, muting the sound somewhat. They were light, and easy to move apart, but I moved them carefully so not to disturb the pianist. I found Edward at the piano. It was a black grand piano, the top open. I traced my hand along the side, feeling the vibration of each note, as I made my way to Edward's side. He didn't have any sheet music, and yet he was playing a piano cover of _Run_ by Leona Lewis so wonderfully. Maybe my ear was too untrained to hear the mistakes, but it felt perfect.

"You play piano," I said.

He easily looked away from the keys and continued without fumbling. "There are few things I find as great a joy in as tickling the old ivories."

I smirked. He was teasing me, but I knew he meant it too, music was important to him. His face was so calm, so at peace, feeling the music created at his fingertips. He could have stayed there forever, if it weren't for the tune I might have doubted which he loved me, more or the piano.

"Why are you playing this song?" I curled my fingers over the edge of the piano and stood closer to him.

"No reason," he said, unable to hide his smirk as he met my eyes. We had matching smirks now.

"How did you find out this is my favourite song?" I demanded. "Unless Alice saw it in a vision, there's no one you could have asked. No one knows—unless you called my mother?"

He shrugged slightly, both eyebrows raised, his innocent expression exaggerated.

I crossed my arms. "So how did you find out?"

"I happened to peek at your most played list, and it was at the top—"

"When did you do that?"

"You were asleep."

"I'm not inviting you over again if you're going to snoop through my stuff," I threatened.

"Also some of the lyrics were written on the back of your Biology notebook," Edward said shaking his head. "The funny thing is you have three different versions of it on your computer. I'm still unsure which is your favourite."

"It's a tie, but sadly the original isn't my favourite." I pressed my lips together and shrugged. "I don't know why but it's better with a girl's voice. _SMASH_'s Katherine McPhee did a really great cover. Yet, I find that the piano version is trying to fight its way up my list of favourite versions."

"So you now have a three-way tie." Edward finished the song, pausing only a second before starting a new tune. He winked at me as the song choice became clear.

I laughed. "I mention _SMASH_ briefly and now you suddenly know the notes to that as well?" I held my breath and listened, remembering the lyrics that went along with the notes. _Heart Shaped Wreckage_ was quickly becoming my second favourite song, and I'd been playing it a lot lately, which was probably how Edward knew—creeping my most played list.

"You know, it's _really_ hard for a girl to resist a musician who's also a bit of a bad boy," I said softly. "And you know my favourite songs. I think you have me now."

Edward paused for a millisecond, just enough for me to notice. I might have thought he didn't know the notes if not for the look he gave me. It never occurred to me that I might be successful at flirting, but that was definitely the look of a guy enticed.

Instead of finishing _Heart Shaped Wreckage_, Edward lifted his hands from the piano, took a breath, and then started again, something new. It was melodic, hypnotic, with the high notes swirling with the middle notes to create something sweet and soothing. It sounded like a lullaby, but the higher notes were stirring, as if wide-awake inside a dream. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, as the song treaded deeper and deeper into the dream world it lived in. When the music calmed, like the end of a rainstorm, just a few trickling notes leftover, I realized how long we'd gone without speaking.

"I don't know that one," I said, "it's beautiful."

"It's your song."

My eyes narrowed. "My song?"

"You inspired it," he elaborated, playing the last chord.

"You wrote that," I said, gawking, "about _me_?"

"It's the first, but certainly not the last," he said with a wink. "I haven't felt this inspired in a long time. You're my muse."

My cheeks warmed. Trying and failing to tuck my hair behind my ear, I dropped my eyes to the ivory keys and allowed myself a small smile.

Edward started playing again a moment later. "This is Esme's favourite."

"Another original?"

He nodded.

I inched forward and placed my hand over his, and he stilled. He drew his hands back when I touched my fingers to the keys. He became a statue, with no sign of breath. He watched as my hands found the notes I was searching for. Then, when I was sure, I played the first bar of the _Harry Potter_ theme. I stepped back and bowed.

"And I never took any lessons," I bragged.

He rolled his eyes at me. "I would have never guessed."

"Actually, I have taken lessons," I confessed, "for about a year when I was eleven. I had a friend who was always trying to figure out movie scores or scores from video games. He was really good at, and he tried to teach me—"

"He?" Edward's tone sounded unusual, sharp.

"We were _eleven_, Edward," I scoffed.

"You did confess earlier that you have a weakness for musicians," Edward reminded me, his eyes darkening. The smile he wore wasn't comforting, but instead made my heart tighten and instead of in my stomach, the butterflies fluttered lower. A deep breath suppressed those wild wings, but my heart didn't relax, it beat harder.

"So"—my voice was so small, so I cleared my throat—"so, now I've met your family." I crossed the room and looked out the window, an excuse to run away. "Is it what you'd thought it would be, or are you disappointed?"

"The day isn't over yet," he whispered from behind me.

I jumped at the closeness of his voice. "Wh-what more do you want me to do?"

Edward gathered my hair over my shoulder, caressing gently. "I don't want you to do anything, just be here, get to know them." He felt under the collar of my cardigan, and then pulled back, removing it, without any resistance on my part. "I want you to feel at home here." His hands traced over my now bare shoulders, brushing over the spaghetti-straps, down to my arms. "Maybe, someday, you'll feel like part of the family."

"I-I've been hearing that a lot lately," I stammered, spinning to face him and moving a foot away in the process. "It's sounding more and more like a command than a friendly invitation."

He closed the distance between us; his thumb stroked my chin, just brushing my lower lip. "I can't imagine living without you. It would be torture." He looped his arm around me, hand on my back, and held me close, so that when I took a breath my chest expanded to meet his.

"That's hopefully _really_ far in the future," I encouraged, smiling weakly, "so we don't have to think about torture right now."

"I'm not thinking about torture right now," he assured me. His eyes sparked with something playful, pushing away the dark thoughts that had frightened me. His kissed me once and I closed my eyes. Even when he let me go, I kept my eyes closed. I wanted another, but I knew when I opened my eyes the mood would be gone.

"How about I give you a proper tour?" he suggested, looping his arm under mine. "If you're going to spend more time here, you should know your way around."

My eyes opened, and I was unsurprised that Edward had erased the mood fully, and all because I didn't want to discuss being a permanent resident here. It was obvious he wanted to talk about it, to force me into considering it, but I wouldn't. He knew it, so he was pouting, and he hoped showing me how gorgeous his house was would affect me. He was wrong. Nothing would ever change my mind.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES:<p>

Oh, boy. So those of you who are kind enough to still be reading this might be wondering "Why so long without updating?" The answer: I accidentally murder my computer. In September, I'd had two full chapters-one of which I was extremely proud of. And I mean proud. I was like "This belongs in a real book. It is too great to be mere fan fiction!" I let it go to my head. Ha. Anyway, I didn't get a chance to upload because I got busy and then...dumped water and fried my computer. Fried. There were sparks. I was so frustrated and depressed (my computer and the stories on it are my children. I murdered my babies) that I didn't want to re-write the two chapters I'd lost. But now I have finally done it. Nothing will compare to the first draft...but seeing as I can't remember everything I put in it, this is the version you get. It's a little convoluted, but it's passable. Also I got some SMASH references in, so that's fantastic.

Those of you who don't watch Smash, just look up the song online! Yay! I shall brainwash you all into watching SMASH! MUAHAHAHA! I have no idea if Bella would actually watch that show...okay, she probably would watch it because Angie recommended it, and she'd stay for the amazing music. Problem solved.


	17. Chapter 16: History (or Carlisle)

_16. HISTORY_

HE LED ME through the house much quicker than I would have liked. The rooms on the first level included the parlor, a very modern styled kitchen with lots of counter space and glass cabinets, Carlisle's first library (containing books and letters he'd salvaged from before 1900), Carlisle's second library (containing all the books and letters he'd collected post-1900), Esme's room for her various porcelain collections (also including elaborate teapots and decorated plates), a room where all the portraits and family pictures were stored, a large music room (where I'd found Edward at the piano), and finally the most interesting room of the first floor—an aquarium. Well, there were three large tanks in the room, and they weren't meant for just goldfish. These were ocean-sized fish, colourful and unfamiliar to me. I'd been to an aquarium before, but I wasn't a fish expert. I only recognized one as Dory from _Finding Nemo_. It was like being inside a pet store, except paintings depicting famous water-themed scenes from stories hung on the surrounding walls. There was Captain Ahab facing the great white whale, Alice literally crying an ocean, a mermaid bobbing in a storm as a ship turned over in the waves, and a submarine I guessed was the Nautilus from _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_. After going on about how wonderful they were, Edward told me Jasper was the artist. There were more, but Esme had asked to hang these four here, since they featured water, and she often joked that they made the fish feel right at home.

On the second level, Edward pointed out the bedrooms. He seemed to find that term funny, since there were no beds in the house. There were couches, and a bean chair in Alice and Jasper's room, but no beds. I had almost forgotten that vampires didn't sleep, and it made my stomach churn to remember how unlike humans they were.

At the top of the stairs was the shared room of Alice and Jasper, and then the room next to it was their storage room—basically a second bedroom for all the stuff that couldn't be stuffed into the first. I realized that there was a pattern. Rosalie and Emmett shared a bedroom as well, and had a second bedroom. Carlisle and Esme's things had spilled over onto the bottom floor—mostly because Carlisle was the oldest, and therefore had accumulated more—so they only had one bedroom on the second floor. Edward devised the route we took so that his room was last, and beside his room was a staircase that led to the third floor—which I assumed meant that tower-like structure I'd admired from outside.

When we approached the door, Edward let go of my hand—which he'd repurposed as his own personal property for the tour. He turned the knob slowly, opened it an inch, and then glanced over his shoulder to raise his eyebrow at me. What a tease. I rolled my eyes. He smiled. He preferred it when I pretended his antics couldn't faze me. It annoyed me that he knew it was an act.

I was impatient; so I pushed the door open, refusing to wait for Edward's grand reveal. This was one room I wanted to explore without him leading the way. He'd invited himself into my house and made himself at home, so I was going to return the favour.

Inside, the upper parts of the walls were plastered with newspaper articles from before I was born, pages from books, and the occasional framed photo of his family from different eras. There was a black shelving unit that covered the entire right wall. There were vinyl records on the two lowest shelves, CDs on the next three, and movies, both VHS and DVD, on the top shelf. It surprised me how few movies he had. It made me ashamed of my own collection. I'd always thought I had a rather small amount of movies, but apparently I was a hoarder in comparison. Edward's movie collection didn't even fill half of one shelf; a stack of sheet music filled the other half. There were cabinets on the opposite wall. Without his permission—as payback for searching the contents of my computer—I opened a few of the drawers to find more sheet music, both completed versions and incomplete scribbles. He had entire wall of sheet music. A lot of it was signed with his initials, which made him the composer. Colour me impressed.

The fact that Edward was so dedicated to music, and I hadn't known, sunk in, and glued me in place. I looked over my shoulder at him, just puzzling to myself, putting together what I knew about him. For the first time, I knew the pieces I had were part of a much bigger picture. There were so many empty spaces. I didn't know enough to guess at what the final image would look like, but I was grateful that at least now I knew something more about him, and it was something good.

"You seem disappointed," Edward said, squirming under my gaze.

"Yeah, in myself," I confessed. I opened and shut a few more drawers. More music.

Edward's brow furrowed.

"Every time I think I'm getting to know you," I explained grumpily, "it turns out"—I shrugged—"I know nothing."

I crossed the room to his collection shelf, fingering through the CDs to read the artist names. Most of it was classical music. I wasn't familiar with many older genres, but the some of the titles were _Best of Baroque_, _Mozart Volume I_, and _Tragedy_—the last one I read the titles of the songs and quickly discovered it was opera, and the songs were probably from tragic scenes in their respective operas. There were very few bands or artist I recognized. I found he had a few CDs from The Police and Genesis, and although I couldn't say I was overly familiar with their music, at least I'd heard of them. I almost jumped for joy when I found a Queen CD. Now I was entering familiar territory.

"There's time to learn," he reassured me. He stood behind me, inspecting me as I inspected his shelves. He judged each reaction I had. He was holding his superior taste in music over my general lack of knowledge about music that isn't currently on the radio.

"I had no idea you liked music this much." I stepped away from the shelf. It was frustrating. There was this great side of him that was in a world I knew nothing about. Why hadn't I taken a greater interest when Dad played his old music? Or when mom tried to introduce me to new genres?

"I was under the impression that you liked music too," he joked, leaning on the arm of the dark blue couch against the back wall.

"I don't think there's a single human alive that doesn't like _some_ music," I snapped. I brushed my hands over the records, carefully not to accidently damage one, just enough to try and get a sense of the kind of music he preferred. There was a lot of jazz, some Motown, and even more classical.

"You don't have to like music for us to be happy," he said quietly.

He'd realized why it upset me. No surprise; I wasn't hiding it well.

"I know." I crossed my arms and walked away from the shelf. I plopped down on the couch, abandoning my good posture to sink into the cushions. "But now I feel like I have a lot of catching up to do."

He laughed and settled down next to me, putting his arm around me.

"I should spend an entire day questioning you," I decided, "like you did to me. Maybe a month, since you've been around a lot longer, so there's more to learn."

"Knowing my favourite music inside and out isn't important, Bella." Edward's features softened, the right corner of his lip curled up. "What's between us won't be destroyed by your inferior knowledge of music, _but_…I wouldn't mind tutoring you until we're on the same page."

I groaned. "That sounds _exhausting_."

"Most likely," he agreed. "It would take a long time."

"Okay, very funny, but no more," I insisted. "I've already admitted that I know nothing, so let's not rub it, alright?"

He laughed in his throat. He lived for rubbing it in, at least when it came to me. No wonder Emmett didn't think his brother was any fun, if this was Edward's idea of fun—well it wasn't _my_ idea of fun, and he needed to reconsider a different sort of humour.

I leaned my head on his shoulder and whispered, "Edward?"

He brushed his hand against my cheek.

"I meant what I said, about asking questions."

His smile widened. "You haven't asked enough questions yet?"

"I'm learning more and more about the current you," I said slowly, eyebrows pulled together, "but I'm still curious about…how."

His expression matched mine—equally confused. "How?"

I shrugged my right shoulder. "Yeah. Like…How did you get here?" I sat up suddenly and faced him. "How did this all start? Why did Carlisle make you into a vampire? Why did any of you become vampires? How did Carlisle become a vampire? I really want to know how someone becomes a vampire—I want to know why too, but _how_—"

"That is a lot of questions," he interrupted, silencing me with the hardness in his voice.

I bit my lip. Why was it so hard to tell what he was willing to share and what he wasn't? I knew I'd never get close to him if he were still hiding from me. Also, I was dying to know the answers. If I was going to be trapped in this world where myths were reality, then I wanted to know everything.

"I'd like to have a lot of answers instead," I said with a forced smile. "Are you willing to trade?"

Edward only frowned and turned his face away.

I exhaled heavily and leaned back into the couch. "And you'd been cooperating really well lately, I almost forgot you were you," I nagged.

"There are some things I'm not ready to share with you," he said sharply.

"Yeah, some things," I mumbled angrily, "some small, _insignificant_ things. Like, that you like music, why you became a vampire, and how many people you've murdered—"

Edward flew off the couch. He stood in front of me, his figure framed by the closed door behind him. He was furious. His body was strained and his jaw was tight. His eyes, too, were tight, and the way he looked at me sent a shiver up my spine.

"I've answered every question you asked in the meadow," he said through clenched teeth.

"Yes, thank you, and now I have more." My hands were shaking slightly, but my voice was strong. I couldn't move an inch even if I'd wanted to, but to Edward it appeared like I was merely standing my ground. For once I could use my fear to my advantage. The only disadvantage I had was that his heightened senses would pick up the faster pace of my heart and the way my breath had tightened.

"Bella, there are things I can't tell you yet." Edward's eyes narrowed.

"Why can't you tell me?"

He moved closer, so quickly that it took my eyes a moment to adjust to his closeness, and my head jerked back in reflex.

"Can't you be satisfied knowing I'll tell you someday?"

"Would _you_?"

Some of the anger drained from his face. His body loosened. His hands, which had clenched into fists, dropped to his sides. He looked weary, and tired. The fear in me lessened, and in its place was pity. I knew I had my own issues and that I wasn't the most emotionally stable human on the planet, but sometimes I felt damn near perfect compared to Edward. He was talented and seductive and beautiful and strong, but also fragile and so quick to erupt. He really needed some vampire anger management classes. Or maybe it was being in love with his dinner that frustrated him so quickly.

"Bella, there are things, about myself, that I am _afraid_"—he closed his eyes—"to tell you, because it would remind you how dangerous I am." He opened his eyes, knelt in front of me, and looked at me pleadingly. "I don't want to make you anymore afraid of me than you already are. I hope that you'll…get used to me first"—a sad smile quirked his lips—"before I share with you the truly horrible side of me."

It was exactly as I suspected, that Edward—who was already so intimidating and frightening—had a dark side that he wanted to hide from me. It was actually a relief to hear it out loud, it was honest and it was almost a confession. He claimed he would share everything with me someday, so that had to be a step in the right direction—unless it was as he had predicted, and his dark side would chase me away for good.

I took Edward's hand and intertwined our fingers. "How about this? You don't have to tell me everything yet," I proposed, "but you can still tell me your story, can't you? Just leave out the bits that aren't suitable for my delicate ears?"

He sighed heavily and shook his head. "It would be much easier on me if you weren't so stubborn," he said.

"But you wouldn't like me as much," I countered, "and that would be bad for me."

"Yes," he agreed, his vigor returning, with a hunger in his eyes. "Very bad."

I swallowed. My mouth was dry. If only I'd waited for Esme's tea—although it was obvious that was just an excuse to leave me alone with my decision.

"I know this is a vampire house, but I assume you still have running water?"

Edward chuckled. "Yes, we do."

"I could use a glass of water." I stood and fixed the hem of my dress, which had turned up. When I looked up, Edward held out a glass of water. "Oh." I took the glass. "Thanks."

"I wonder if that will ever cease to surprise you," he said, almost giddy that he was able to impress me so easily.

"I was just wondering the same thing," I mumbled, and then took a sip. "You must be a mind-reader or something."

Edward came close—which was very distracting and made it difficult not to choke when I took another gulp from the glass. Edward touched my hair and put his arm around my waist.

"I'm willing to tell you my story," he said, "but the edited version."

"That's fine." My elbows poked out awkwardly, as I'd tried to tuck my arms in whilst holding the glass when Edward pulled me close.

Edward laughed at me and shifted in the blink of an eye, so that he stood beside me with his hand at my waist. "If we're going to do this, we might as well do it right," he decided, "with visual aids."

He led me through the door, with me glancing once more over my shoulder. His intentions were to lead me downstairs, but the stairs by his door led to the third level—and I was curious about the tower, so I stopped dead. Edward gave me a puzzled look, with just a hint of impatience.

"We didn't finish the tour," I said, nodding my head in the direction of the stairs. I grinned with all my teeth, begging a little.

"Do you want to hear my story or not?" he said sharply.

I frowned, looked down at my feet for a moment, and then walked by him. I wasn't about to waste this opportunity just to see another part of the house. Edward realized my intentions soon enough and took the lead again.

Edward brought me to back to the room with the portraits and photos. Boxes filled the room, sixty-four in total from what I could count. I waded through the boxes, following Edward in my own good time. He'd rushed to the back ahead of me and had pulled off a lid, in a great hurry to find his visual aids. I lifted lids at random, stood on the balls of my feet and tried to peek inside. Edward was taller than me, so it wasn't difficult for him to reach inside and see. I worried for Alice though; it was probably difficult for her to reminisce under these conditions.

"I have to ask," I said. I waited for him to mock me or laugh, but I spoke again when a minute passed without him saying anything. "Do you have any photos from when you were human—any of you?"

"No." He said it so quickly, so cold.

"Do you have _anything_ left from when you were…?" I stopped a couple boxes down from him, but in the same row.

He had stopped searching boxes. He held an album in his hands. His eyes weren't fixed on the album, but on me. His eyes were so serious. He stared for a long moment, which seemed longer as my lungs got tighter. If there had been a mirror in the room I would've checked to see if something had happened to my face, but there wasn't. There was only an inkling that the reason he was staring had to do with my last question.

"Yes," he finally said, his words soft and quiet.

"That must be nice," I said carefully, in case he thought the opposite.

He nodded, never breaking our gaze.

"What exactly did you keep?" I questioned, taking small steps toward him. "If not photos then…clothing? Or books?"

He looked away. "It's not important."

"Do you keep it on the third floor—"

"_Bella_—"

"—And that's why you avoided showing it to me?"

He sighed heavily. It was an avoidance tactic.

I set the empty glass on the floor against the wall and shuffled close to Edward. "So let's see."

"You're not going to press he matter?"

"Later," I promised with a smirk. "First you owe me a story." I tapped the album gently and motioned for him to open it.

Edward opened to the first page. It was an etching on a page, detailed but old, worn at the edges. It was a cityscape. My eyes widened when I recognized it as the same city as the painting in the parlor.

"I've already told you Carlisle's human origins—"

"He was the son of a pastor in London," I recalled. "I think being the father of a vampire coven while being religious might be ironic…but somehow, after meeting him, it just makes sense."

"At first Carlisle thought he was a monster, he and his family had been chasing vampires out of London for decades," Edward added. "Carlisle says they were very good at it too, surprisingly."

"Carlisle was a vampire hunter?" I laughed.

"Not exactly," Edward corrected, "he was a vampire chaser. His father firmly believed vampires were demons and the best way to exorcise a demon is with the word of God, holy water, and wooden crosses."

"I would've guessed that much too." I shrugged.

"Carlisle was a little smarter," Edward said, pride in his eyes. "It didn't take him long to realize his father was wrong—about how to kill vampires, that is. He still thought for all of his human life that it was black and white—vampires were evil. Carlisle knew that wooden crosses didn't drive them back, and holy water didn't burn them, but he did believe that light frightened them."

"Light?" My eyes narrowed. "Like sunlight?"

"Vampires are creatures of the night, Bella," Edward reminded me, "not because of the sun, but because that's when our prey is most vulnerable."

I shivered. "Alright. So Carlisle and his father assumed it was a dislike of sunlight, but he was wrong. Is that how he got involved with…this?"

"_This_?" The right corner of his lip curved up, a cocky half-smile. "Yes, but it wasn't because he was wrong. The night Carlisle became a vampire, he was leading a hunt, his party armed with torches."

Alarms went off in my head. Fire was dangerous to vampires. "So he thought, kill it with fire, and the vampires realized he was much too clever to leave alive," I guessed.

"When Carlisle attacked, they killed every other human, but accidentally left him still breathing," Edward said, his voice hushed. "He crawled away, somehow, despite all the pain…I don't know how he managed it, but he hid himself in a potato cellar for three days."

My brow furrowed. "I know you're editing stuff out here, but you do realize you've given me two huge clues to my question as to _how _you become a vampire, right?"

"Yes, and that's all you get," he teased.

I rolled my eyes. Great, clues, and I had to solve it with only two. So it was a process that took approximately three days or less. It was something that could be done accidentally. The vampires Carlisle had hunted wanted him dead, but had failed. Maybe it was like in the old stories. It _had _to be that. I was positive that becoming a vampire had to do with being bitten. The part I didn't know was…vampires (other than the Cullens) drank human blood all the time. Not every human bitten became a vampire, so what made the difference? I needed another clue.

"Once Carlisle realized what had happened, he tried to kill himself."

My breath caught in my throat. My face paused in shock. Maybe Carlisle hadn't invented suicide, but it was impossible to reconcile what I now knew about him with the smiling man I'd met in the foyer. How could someone that genuinely happy have ever felt so low?

"I don't think I was really trying."

I spun toward the voice. Carlisle stood behind me, one hand on the column of boxes that Edward had taken the album from. Carlisle smiled apologetically, realizing that he'd nearly given me a heart attack.

"Bella wanted to hear some of our history," Edward said pointedly, clearly trying to telepathically let Carlisle know not to spill anything too scary. Edward's ability to mind-read thankfully did not extend to mind-speak, or it might have worked.

"From the beginning I see," Carlisle said, eyes scanning the bear leather album cover.

"Since it's your history, would you mind…sharing it?" I asked nervously. I didn't want to blush—mostly because blushing meant blood rushing to my face in front of two vampires—but when crowded on both sides by attractive immortals, it was hard not to.

"Certainly," Carlisle said with a large smile.

"Edward mentioned that you're writing a book, about your history," I remembered.

"Still editing it," Carlisle said with a wink. "It will probably in the editing stage for quite some time."

"When he says quite some time," Esme spoke, appearing behind Carlisle, her hand on his shoulder, "he's not measuring time by human standards, I'm afraid."

Carlisle chuckled. "Well, that comes with being old, I suppose. You measure time differently."

"Are you here for Bella's history lesson as well?" Edward seemed impatient with the growing crowd. Or maybe it was that he had two people to hold him accountable to telling the true version.

"I haven't heard it in a while," Esme said decidedly, "and frankly the first time I heard it I was in shock, I think, so I might hear more of it this time."

"Well then where did I interrupt?" Carlisle asked.

"Suicide," Edward muttered bitterly. Yes, he was made that he could tell the nice, clean version anymore. Edward's feigned stoical expression as stared at his father was a clear warning that they'd have a nice, _friendly_ chat once I was gone.

"Yes," Carlisle said, then inhaled deeply. "Although I had believed I was a monster, I did want to be. If I had wanted to die, I would've tried lighting myself on fire, but I felt there must be a reason I had survived that night."

Esme put her hand on Carlisle's chest, her expression pained when Carlisle spoke of his death attempts.

"I starved myself until I couldn't bear the hunger and blindly attacked…" He eyes widened for a moment, and then he smiled when he looked at me. "I drank the blood of an animal and my thirst was quenched. It was the sign I'd needed. Since there was a way to survive without hurting anyone, then there was a way to do some good with my new life."

Edward, Esme and Carlisle were smiling at me like I was a child. I knew I had a wide-eyed wondering look on my face; I couldn't help it. I fitted a frown firmly on my face. No matter how amazed I was, I wouldn't let them laugh at me for being innocent and naïve in their world. That's why I wanted to learn their history in the first place, to be in the know, instead of left behind.

"By night I studied, exhausting the resources of every university library in every city I travelled through," he said, his eyes mirrors to that restless, tired time when he was searching. "By day I practiced being around humans. It was easy enough to resist with everyone watching, healthy and whole…" His eyes flickered between Edward and I, and then finally landed on me. "The real test came when I was hunting in Scotland one cold night. Wolves had attacked a boy, and I caught the scent of his blood. I would have run away if I hadn't heard him calling for help."

I pictured the cold night, the boy and the wolves. I wondered

Carlisle inclined his head an inch, a smile sneaking upon his lips. "I knew I was the only one around for miles, and without my help he would surely die. So I did what I thought was impossible. I saved him from the wolves and brought him to the nearest house—which was his own, as it turned out—and I helped his mother treat his wounds."

"At last I knew what to do with the time I'd been given," Carlisle rejoiced. "Medicine. It was so simple, but I hadn't thought it was possible; to resist blood when it was so close…but it only made my will stronger."

Unless Edward was exaggerating his own struggle, Carlisle had to be something of a miracle himself. Alice had said he'd never fed on human blood—hearing it from him made it real. I wanted to applaud, but the story wasn't over.

"I devoted myself completely to the study of medicine and travelled across Europe," Carlisle explained excitedly. "I didn't meet many of my kind…one rather inverted fellow"—Carlisle exchanged a look with Edward, and Edward gave him a slight headshake—"and then I settled in Italy for some time. In Volterra." He took the album from Edward and showed me that same city etching. "I drew this when I left the city, to preserve it, in case it changed. Which I'm certain it has." He laughed and put his arm around Esme. "Not that I would want to see that for myself."

I held the picture in my hands. The clear protective covering was all that was between my fingers and a piece of history. This image had been drawn before I was born, before my parents were born—before my great great grandparents were born.

Carlisle flipped the page to another image—this one painted, stunning, of four men, or four angles…maybe gods. Two of the figures had dark hair, one with pure white hair, and the last with gold. Two of them had stoic, unapproachable expressions. One of the dark-haired ones had a strange expression—it was joy, but there was something in his eyes—even though it was painted from afar—that made him seem above all the others, like he could throw any of them off the high balcony they stood on, and not look down. The shoulder-length hair and medieval Italian clothing had fooled me, but the blonde was Carlisle. I held the picture closer and looked at Carlisle again. It was definitely Carlisle.

"The Volturi were much more educated and civilized than any other vampire I had encountered," Carlisle continued. "The vampires I had hunted were animals by comparison. We got along well enough and we called each other friends, but unfortunately we disagreed about one thing and that was blood."

"The Volturi drank human blood," I guessed. The dark-haired vampire and his two companions had red eyes while Carlisle's was honey-coloured. By the way they stood together, it was clear which of them was the leader—and that Carlisle's presence in the photo was someone who wanted to lead, not be led.

"Our time was brief, two decades," he confirmed, "then I moved onto the New World, in search of someone like me."

I flipped through the pages of the album. There were so many sketches of new places, the cities Carlisle had explored, and the landscapes he'd seen. It was wonderful to think one person could see all that and still have time for more. Carlisle had probably seen it all and still he had time.

"Humans became less suspicious about my background and it became easier to fool them into thinking I was just a travelling doctor who hadn't found a place to plant my roots yet," said Carlisle. "I appreciated that I had more company in my patients, but I could never fully trust anyone with my identity. I had found my mission in life yet was still unsatisfied. I was alone."

I closed the album. Carlisle, though his words were sad, simply looked at his son and his wife and had all the happiness in the world, all contained in his eyes.

"I was working in Chicago when the influenza epidemic was at its peak," Carlisle said solemnly. "I had been considering the idea for a while. If I couldn't find a vampire like me, then I could create one." He bowed his head for a second. "I gave myself rules though." He lifted his head. "I would not take someone's life from them like mine had been taken. It had to be someone whose life was ending. So many of my patients were suffering without reason, and I considered so many times…" He trailed off. His gaze settled on Edward. "1918," Carlisle said. "The Spanish Influenza."

I had suspected Edward had been around a while, but the idea of him being turned almost a full century ago—that would made him one-hundred-and-twelve years old. I was dating a senior citizen.

"I was seventeen," Edward said. He exhaled sharply and shook his head. His eyes fixed on the floor. "Both my parents had died of the same sickness that was killing me."

"His mother was clever," Carlisle said, his solemn eyes on his son. "She begged me to save her son. I told her I'd done all any doctor could. She told me there was something only I could do. She knew. So I promised her I would make him like me."

If I had been wowed before, this was beyond that—I was in awe. I hadn't thought Edward's origin story would be so…unexpected. My eyes blurred and I blinked back tears. Edward had lost his parents at seventeen. He'd been dying. It was strange to think if Edward's mother had made Carlisle promise to save him, I would have never met Edward. He'd be a statistic in a history book instead of right beside me. I took his hand to prove that he was with me. Edward squeezed my hand.

"So you met Edward first," I said.

"No," Esme disagreed. "I met Carlisle when I was very young, but he wasn't about to stop my life."

"I felt a strong connection with Esme," Carlisle said, placing his hand over hers, "but she had a family and a life ahead of her. I could not take her from that."

It was difficult to merge the information in my head. Esme was older than Edward, but he'd been a vampire for longer. "So you moved on, turned Edward, and then what?"

"Carlisle was called to treat a woman's wounds," Esme explained. "To his great surprise it was I."

I knew immediately that this wasn't an ordinary doctor visit. Carlisle had already told me he wouldn't change someone who had a life to live.

"I had jumped," Esme said, matter-of-factly, "after I lost my child." Her smile tightened, more a line than a smile. "After Carlisle had changed me, I was so grateful. He became my ideal image of a gentleman when I met him as a young woman. I hadn't forgotten him. I was glad to meet him again."

Carlisle took her hand and kissed it. Her smile sweetened. The space around them was warm, their energy filling their surroundings with love. Anyone who didn't believe in soul mates couldn't have met Carlisle and Esme.

"So you've been with Carlisle and Esme since about…1918," I marveled. It had barely been seventeen years and my own mother had shipped me off to live with her ex-husband. It must be either very wonderful, or just impossible to walk away from, if they were able to be together for so long.

"There was a short time I tried things my own way," Edward admitted reluctantly. He avoided meeting my gaze—or maybe Carlisle's since he had a look of sadness in him that matched Edward. "It was less than a decade and I came back and begged for forgiveness."

"Like the prodigal son," I muttered, one eyebrow raised. I could only imagine what Edward could have done in that time—the things Alice hadn't told me when I didn't ask how many people Edward had killed.

"Sometimes the only way to learn is on our own," Carlisle consoled. He was like the father in the story; Edward only needed to reappear and Carlisle had welcomed him back with open arms and a relieved, joyful smile.

"So the three of you have been together the longest," I said.

"I think there's a portrait in here…ah." Esme appeared between Edward and me, a n old photo wrapped in a protective clear sheet.

I only jumped a little. It didn't take more than a second to calm myself from the sudden shift in positions. I caught Edward smirk at my reaction, but Esme ignored it completely, respectfully, and showed me the picture. It was the three of them. Carlisle and Edward wore suits, their hair combed back. They stood on either side of Esme, who sat in a round sort of chair. Esme wore a dress, light-coloured, but what colour exactly it was impossible to say since it was a black and white photo. She had on a large hat with a feather. Her dress had a tight waist and a buttoned collar, with lace covering her décolletage. I wondered how long they'd had to stand there, posed as the old camera caught their images. Not needing to breath, and having unlimited muscular endurance, would come in handy then.

"I'm happy to report I don't have that dress anymore," Esme said, giggling when my smile indicated we had the same opinion. "I do still have that hat. I _loved_ that hat." She shuffled portraits in her hand, pushing the trio to the back and slid a quartet to the front. "Rosalie probably has all her dresses."

This photo had Esme and Rosalie seated on a small two-seater wood-frame chair with Edward on the right beside Rosalie and Carlisle beside Esme on the left. Esme wore a patterned dress, black elbow-length gloves, and a black hat with a ribbon around it that matched the dress. Rosalie's dress was lighter and the sleeves were shorter. Her gloves were white and her hat matched her dress, with a ribbon styled to look like a rose on it. I tried to determine the differences in what Carlisle and Edward wore, but the intricacies of men's fashion escaped me. All I knew was that Edward wore a hat in this photo and maybe the shoulders were sharper. I didn't know my eras too well, but I knew it was pre-50s, and since Esme had joined after Edward I could only guess it was late 20s or early 30s.

"When was this taken?" I had to appease my curiosity.

"Hm, it was…1935, a month before Rosalie found Emmett," Esme recalled, touching her hand to her face. "So strange to think about it now."

"Found him?" I questioned. The way it was said piqued my interest.

"He was mauled by a bear," Edward said with a small shrug.

"That's horrible," I exclaimed.

"Yes, he's very lucky Rosalie found him," Esme agreed. "She was lured by the scent of his blood but when she saw him…"—Esme met my eyes and winked at me.

"She carried him one hundred miles and asked me to turn him," Carlisle added. Even he seemed impressed.

"Rosalie must be really good at resisting human blood," I said, in spite of my feelings for her. Edward had barely passed my test in the meadow—never mind carrying me one hundred miles after being mauled by a bear!

"Not especially," Edward muttered.

"It was fate," Esme said decidedly. "They were born the same year, you know, but Emmett is one year older since he was turned after Rosalie."

"Are you and Carlisle close in age?" I blushed when I realized it probably wasn't polite to ask, but she'd brought it up.

"Yes, close," Esme said with a smirk, "but I'm older." She reached into the box and surfaced with another portrait, this time a quintet. "Now this dress I know I have somewhere. I'm hoping it will be wearable again, someday. I danced all night wearing it on more than one occasion."

The five of them were dressed in 1940s fashions. Longer skirts on the ladies, and the men all looked somber. I was about to ask why when I realized the photo was likely taken sometime around World War II. That was reason enough to look dismal.

"Alice and Jasper joined us in the 50s," Esme said, interrupting my thoughts. She showed me a photo of the seven of them. Alice was definitely the liveliest, in any era.

"Alice and Jasper were already vampires when you met them," I murmured, mostly to myself. It was difficult to think that if they were turned by someone other than Carlisle—who's rules were so humane—then I didn't want to know the circumstances that brought Alice and Jasper immortality.

The 1950s fashion was all rounded shoulders and _Grease_-styled wardrobes. Rosalie looked like a savvier Sandra Dee and Alice, with her short hair (and therefore couldn't rock the ponytail look) dressed like Doris Day and looked every inch a fashionista. Emmett wore the 1950s version of a letterman jacket; Edward wore a simple cardigan-style sweater ensemble with dress pants, which he somehow managed to make hot instead of nerdy; and Jasper was a total greaser—leather jacket, combed hair and a look that said he was unapproachable. If it weren't for the ever enthusiastic Alice—even in a still shot—he might've been about to start a fight. Since this was close to the time Jasper and Alice joined the Cullens, my guess was that Jasper's struggle to never again consume human blood was the cause of his photographed displeasure. Esme dressed like a stereotypical 50s housewife, her hair curled up and pearl earrings. Together, her and Carlisle were exactly what a 50s posh sitcom couple would look like: clean, attractive, and happy.

It had been about fifty years since the photo was taken. It was strange to see the Cullens moving so unchanged through time. I wondered what it was like to watch the world transform. Most people resisted change, but the Cullens had lived through decades of constant shifting. I didn't know if I could be that adaptable.

"Are these boxes all filled with black and white photos?" I asked with a smile.

"Only this one," Esme said, patting the box she and Edward had been digging through. "It's more mementos, postcards, and souvenirs…things that we felt we needed to preserve. When coloured photos become common we went a little overboard." She shrugged her left shoulder and laughed, not quite embarrassed but she knew it was silly to preserve people who never aged. "There are times Rosalie and Emmett have lived apart. They'll get married and move out for a few years—"

"Go on _another _honeymoon in the tropics," Carlisle interjected with a chuckle.

Esme scrunched her nose and narrowed her eyes at him, resisting a laugh.

I wasn't surprised Rosalie would continuously travel to the tropics—it was the best place to show off her consistently perfect bathing-suit body. She probably had an entire closet of bikinis prepared for her next wedding. Perhaps I was picking on her, but Rosalie and I would probably always be enemies, and since she terrified me…it made it easier to belittle her in my mind.

"It's nice to have photos of our times together when they're gone," Esme said finally, still a hint of the laugh in her voice.

All three of them were smiling, remembering some private joke, some memory I wasn't privy to. Edward tucked his chin down and pressed his lips together. Whatever Carlisle and Esme were thinking, Edward found it funny.

The mood changed suddenly. I only noticed because Edward lost his smile. I turned to find Esme looking at me with a peculiar, inquisitive expression.

"Why don't I show you some more recent photographs," Esme suggested, draping her arm over my shoulders. "Before we moved back to Forks, we were in New York, and there's a photo I particularly like hanging in the kitchen."

I glanced back once at Edward. He was so serious, and his eyes were hard. Esme wanted to finish our chat, and Edward had obviously caught onto what we'd talked about. Edward had told me in the meadow that he tried not to pry into the minds of his family, and they'd gotten very good at thinking of something else—or many things at once—to keep things from him the rare times they needed to. However Esme had managed to hide it from him before, I was sure he knew now.

Carlisle stepped in front of Edward and blocked my view of him. Even if Edward didn't like what his parents were up to—because now I was sure Carlisle was in on it—he wouldn't stop them. I was on my own to convince Esme that I knew what I was doing. It was a hard sell since I rarely felt like I knew what I truly wanted. I'd been so used to giving into mom's whims that I'd given up wanting things too desperately. I was too often disappointed, because we would move or she would dismiss how much I wanted it, or she didn't have the money then, or she was too busy with some new thing she'd started. This was the first time in my life I was allowed to go after something I wanted. It was like a child sat down in front of a bowl of jellybeans and being told to take what she wanted. Too much and there'd be a tummy ache; too little and the child would only want more.

The kitchen was strangely modern for how old the house was. It had been renovated, maybe recently. The counters were black granite and the cabinets were glass. The floor was black and white tile. There was a set of knives by the sink, so that they could pretend someone cooked in the house. If I opened the drawers likely every kitchen appliance one could ever need waited, unused. There were no appliances on the counter—not even a toaster—it was bear. There was a sleek, black microwave, but I doubted it had ever been tested. Esme had more teapots and teacups than she did serving plates in the cabinets. There were a wide variety of teas and brands in the cabinets as well. Maybe Esme wanted to open a teahouse when she took a break from being a doctor the next time she swapped roles with Carlisle.

The walls were white. One wall had a calendar with a water-paint depiction of a porch covered in autumn leaves, mostly orange, with a few hints of red. Another wall had three photos in thick black square frames. There was a photo of Esme and Carlisle in formal dress, Esme in a simple white dress.

"We updated our vows," she said, gesturing to the photo. "It was in spring. Simple, but lovely."

The next photo was the entire Cullen gang gathered around an impressive ice sculpture. The subject wasn't complicated, it was a castle, but the details were outstanding. Shingles on the tower's roof, the turrets and window spaces; the little soldiers armed on the battlements; and the castle was twice Edward's height. Why I continued to be blown away by how talented they all were, I wasn't sure. Likely I'd be wowed for as long as I was with them.

"We came in sixth place," Esme said. She tapped the frame of the ice sculpture photo. "There were some very talented people that year. Very imaginative."

"This was a contest?" I gawked. "And you came in sixth?"

"Mhmm." Her smile broadened.

"I'd like to see the winners," I mused. The talent it would take to beat a coven of vampires had to be quite a sight.

"I saved the photo somewhere—the top three got their photo in the newspaper," Esme said. "I'll show it to you sometime."

"I'd love that," I said graciously.

The last photo was full of faces I didn't recognize. The Cullens were in the photo, armed with baseball gloves and Alice had a bat hung over her shoulder. There were four women and a man, all of them I knew were also vampires, as they had the same eyes the Cullens had. So they were vegetarian vampires too. One of the women had dark hair, and olive undertones to her pale skin, and the man too had dark hair and the same complexion. One of the young women had strawberry blonde hair, and she was incredibly beautiful—her features were different, but just as striking as Rosalie. If I had to compare, Rosalie would probably win…but the strawberry blonde seemed more approachable than Rosalie, who was like a goddess. The other two women had pale blonde hair, and were so similar that they might be sisters.

"They are our sister coven in Denali," Esme introduced. "Tanya,"—she pointed at the strawberry blonde—"Kate, Irina,"—the two light blonde sisters—"Carmen,"—the dark haired woman—"and Eleazar."

"So there are more vampires like you." It was a comforting thought.

"There are _more_ not like us, but yes, there are some," she agreed. "That doesn't make the lives we lead any less dangerous."

Back to that again. I breathed deep and prepared to argue my decision.

"I know what you've decided," Esme said, completely puncturing my preparedness, instantly deflating me. "I shouldn't have been eavesdropping—but I was, and when you thought you were alone with Edward"—she smiled apologetically—"even though I could hear you heart speed up, your voice was steady. You're very brave, Bella."

I blushed. "I'm not all that brave."

"You _are_," she insisted, putting her hands on my shoulders, facing me squarely. "You are very brave, and I know now that if a girl like you needed a way out, you'd find one. I have experience with this subject. I don't talk about it often, as it upsets Carlisle, but…I was married before, and my husband…"—she shook her head sadly—"he abused me. He made sure the bruises were in places I could hide. The words he used were worse than anything he did to me physically. It hurt the most would he would suddenly speak to me sweetly and apologize, saying if I was better he wouldn't need to get so angry." Her eyes wandered up and her eyelids flickered, as if the memory of tears cried could be felt. "After I lost my baby to lung fever…I felt there was nothing left to live for." She found my eyes again, saw the horror in my eyes, and smiled to comfort me. "Carlisle saved me from every lonely, frightened feeling."

I nodded. There were tears in my eyes. I blinked them back.

Esme touched my cheek. "You are a sweet girl, Bella," she whispered. "You are also strong—much stronger than you realize. Stronger than me, I think."

I shook my head once, mouth gaping open, but unable to speak. There was no way my feebleness could be compared to Esme—she who had been through an abusive marriage, lost her child, and somehow managed to radiant with warmth and comfort and happiness.

"The reason I wanted to give you a chance to decide again, whether you wanted this life or not, was because I know firsthand how easy it is to feel trapped by a relationship." Esme rubbed my arms and then patted my shoulders. "I have confidence that you'll be alright. You know what you want, Bella."

I closed my mouth, because it was dry from hanging open. My arguments were unnecessary. Esme didn't need me to state how confident I was; she'd eavesdropped and seen me in action. How had I impressed this amazing woman?

"I look forward to knowing you better," she said, her tone final and sure.

All I could do was thank her, stare stunned at the pictures on the wall while I composed myself.

Edward found me a moment later and took my hand. For a while his eyes were serious and he seemed lost in his thoughts. I wanted to ask what he was thinking, but Alice and Jasper popped in before I could. Even Rosalie and Emmett joined us in the kitchen. Carlisle brought in an old version of Clue and set it on the kitchen table. I was swept into an afternoon of board games. Edward and I were on a team for _Clue_, but Alice swapped partners with me for _Scene It_. Esme must have hurled my stomach churning because she got up to make a delicious Tuscan chicken Panini with red onion, tomatoes, and mozzarella cheese. When I tried to thank her, she said that having someone to test her cooking was thanks enough.

Later Emmet, Rosalie, Edward and I were on a team against Carlisle, Esme, Alice and Jasper for charades. Somehow I guessed what Emmett was miming every time, to which he gave me a painful high-five to congratulate me. Rosalie gave him a narrow-eyed look every time he did, but he just kissed her forehead and laughed it off. Edward and Alice weren't allowed to guess, but they could give their teammates hints.

Night had fallen without my notice. Unexpectedly, I was reluctant to go, but dad would be worried if I was out too late. I hadn't even called him. Alice handed me a phone before I could ask and told me she'd already dialed. I put the phone to my ear and it was dad's voice saying hello. I told him I was at Edward's, and we'd just finished charades with his family. He was both relieved and surprised—as I had never played charades before in my life, and he knew I was much too serious a child to have suggested the game myself. After I hung up, I said goodbye to Edward's family as Edward ushered me toward the door. He'd steered me out of the house without incident when suddenly Alice shoved the front door open.

"Hey, Bella, are you a baseball fan?" Alice shouted.

"No." I frowned. I hated most sports. Being a horribly clumsy person meant I'd avoided sports all my life, so I wouldn't subject myself to the injuries and humiliation.

"Great! We're having a game tomorrow and you're invited," Alice cheered.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. It wasn't up for debate. "Okay."

"See you tomorrow," Alice said, and then shut the door. Behind her, before the door closed, I spied Rosalie giving Alice the glare of a lifetime.

Edward held my hand and brought me to the garage with his Volvo. He was distracted, and didn't listen when I told him not to buckle my seatbelt, that I could do it myself. I called his name twice, but he ignored me. He backed out of the garage, pivoted, and then drove down the Cullen's long driveway into the forest that disconnected their home from the road.

"I had a great time." I knew I was the only one listening, but I hoped my words would eventually reach him. "Rosalie still hates me, but I think Esme and I are going to get along."

"Hm." His eyes were on the road, at least, so wherever his thoughts had taken him, he was driving well—extremely fast, but well.

"It's starting to get cool," I commented dryly. "That's because the sun's down. And hey, look, the moon." I leaned on my elbow and watched the moon outside the window. It would be full tomorrow night.

"Esme asked you…" He trailed off before he'd even started. He glanced at me, and then turned back to the road.

"You want to say something about what Esme asked me," I guessed. "You already know what we talked about, so you don't need to ask me." I slumped into the seat and rolled my head to face him. "You have an opinion, so go ahead. Say it; I'm all ears."

Even with my encouragement—albeit slightly sarcastic encouragement—he was hesitant. His brow furrowed and his eyes tensed.

"Esme asked if I wanted her help, to get away from you." Saying it was difficult, it made me ashamed that I had considered it, even for a minute. "_If_ that was what I wanted."

"My own mother thinks I'm bad for you," Edward said gloomily. He exhaled heavily. "I hadn't forgotten, but I hoped I'd _improved _enough…"—his fingers tightened on the wheel—"I know there could be someone better for you, someone _safer_ for you, but a selfish part of me wanted to be good…for you."

I laughed. The instant to sound came out I regretted it. Edward misinterpreted it and his expression turned dark.

"You are," I said quickly.

Edward's eyes tightened, but now he looked at me quizzically. His grip loosened on the wheel. The road was straight, so he didn't need to look away from me to drive. It made me nervous though, so I gripped the car door and the seat. Before I could sputter at him to look at the road, he rolled his eyes and did exactly that.

"I am what," he demanded.

"Good for me," I answered, "obviously."

"I find that hard to believe," he murmured. "Even my family had reservations—until they met you and saw how wonderful you are. I'm the unworthy one."

My mind flashed to the memory of his compositions and the songs he'd played for me. "You have a funny definition of unworthy."

"You rise to the occasion every time," he praised, "and I can't measure up."

I sat up and strained to turn in my seat. "Edward, stop talking crazy talk!"

His left eyebrow rose, but he didn't look at me.

"You measure up," I assured him. "Edward, you may have your flaws, but you're flawless in a lot of ways too."

"An oxymoron isn't going to convince me," he joked, his expression serious.

"You have a sense of humour," I congratulated. "You made that horrid 1950s cardigan thing look hot—which is quite a feat. And do I need to mention how amazingly talented you are musically?"

"I don't need to be reminded of my good qualities, Bella, I—"

"Plus, you probably already noticed the most important thing," I said, cutting him off.

He frowned at me. "What most important thing?"

"I'm sure you've heard it," I said softly, embarrassed that I was about to say it out loud. I trained my eyes in my clasped hands. My palms were clammy. My face flushed. "You're the only person who's made my…"—I took a deep breath to calm myself—"You make my heart race. You give me butterflies. You're the first person I've ever known that I feel like…I feel like I can be _me_ when I'm with you." I tucked my hair behind my ears, this time the curls had fallen enough to allow it. "I feel like you could know me."

The first stars appeared in the sky. The world outside the car was immobile and still. I watched out the window, careful when I used the glass to spy on Edward's reflection. We passed trees on both sides, racing behind us, and he said nothing for a few minutes. It wasn't until I saw the town rising ahead of us that I heard him breathe again.

"I feel I can be myself around you too," he said.

My heart squeezed. I studied his reflection in the glass. For someone who'd just admitted he could be himself around me, he didn't look happy about it. He was troubled, struggling within himself.

"That's what makes me bad for you," he admitted. "I want you to know me, and if I let you close enough…I could hurt you, or…you would be terrified of me. I couldn't bear that." His eyes poured over me. "I don't want you to hate me."

"It would take a lot for me to hate you," I reassured him, "because my feelings for you are on the opposite end of the spectrum."

He shook his head and laughed. "I love you too, Bella."

My face reddened, a fruit ripe for picking. I refused to look at him or his reflection. "You are bad for me," I mumbled.

This time he chuckled, his worries wiped away, for the moment. He was soon silent again, probably deciding if he could adopt my confidence as his own. Esme was certain now, and Alice had labeled it as fated, and Carlisle had thanked me…leaving Edward and I as the only ones uncertain about our future.

Well, Rosalie was certain we were doomed to fail—but I still counted that as a confident stand on our relationship.

Edward parked at the end of my driveway and shut off the engine. We sat silently for a whole minute. Finally, Edward got out and opened my door.

"I'll walk you to the door," he decided.

I was grateful. I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

We walked slowly. My ankles were unsteady after a whole day in heels, but I made it to the doorstep without stumbling. I thought about stumbling, just to delay the goodbye, but I refused to be that needy. So the day had gone well. Good days ended all the time. Tomorrow could be another one. I was seventeen; potentially I had a whole life of goodbyes I wanted to avoid.

"I had a great time," I said. As soon as it was out, my face fell flat and I was mortified. "God, that was awful and cheesy and so 80s movie of me," I rambled speedily. "Can we rewind, pretend I just said 'goodnight' and 'I'll see around sometime' instead?"

Before my bad case of motor mouth could further embarrass me, Edward brushed one hand across my neck and hooked his arm around my waist to pull me close. The right corner of his mouth turned up and his eyes were on my lips. I inhaled shakily, closed my eyes, leaned forward an inch, and waited.

Edward's arm drew back. I opened my eyes as the front door opened, and Edward stood a foot away from me. Dad stood in the doorway, in full uniform and gun on his hip. He was playing the menacing-father-of-the-girlfriend card. It had worked, irritatingly enough. Edward hadn't kissed me.

"Dad, hi."

Dad eyed my outfit, and even though he was surely surprised to see me in a dress, his eyes narrowed, knowing whom the dress was for. He turned a stern gaze on Edward.

"Dad, this is Edward," I introduced. "Edward, this is my dad."

Edward held out his hand confidently. "Mr. Swan, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Dad simply took Edward's hand and shook it firmly. He wouldn't be deterred by good manners.

"Bella mentioned she was seeing you," dad said, sounding very old-fashioned. He didn't want to acknowledge the 'd'-word—God forbid his daughter was dating.

"He was just saying goodnight," I hinted, giving Edward a strained smile.

"Goodnight, Bella," Edward said, his voice much too soft and intimate to be in my father's presence. He kissed my cheek. Edward backed away only when I'd given him the satisfaction of a deep blush. Then he remembered my father and his voice was the respectful suitor again. "Goodnight, Mr. Swan."

My father and I stood in the doorway while Edward strutted away, the only victor of that awkward introduction. Dad had wanted to make a lasting impression, but Edward did it better. I wasn't sure if I wanted to strangle Edward or if I wanted to go after him and kiss him before he could drive away. Edward had left me exposed and untouched. He made me want to scream.

I shuffled inside and shook off my shoes. Dad interrogated me as I climbed the stairs. Each step up I was stopped with a new question. When had I gone over? I'd been there all day, since the morning. Was it just the two of us in the morning? No, Alice had picked me up. We were friends now. That made him happy. For a few questions more he focused on the family that I'd spent the day with instead of the boyfriend. I was at the top of the stairs when he gave me the traditional warning, that Edward had better be good to me and if I ever needed to talk about anything…well, I could call my mother. Dad was doing his best, but he wouldn't touch 'the talk' with a thirty-five-and-a-half-foot pole.

I stowed my shoes in my room, traded the canary-yellow cardigan for a large sweater, and then sunk down the stairs again. Dad had dinner ready; the fish he'd caught was now seasoned and served with brown rice. Tiredly, I complimented the spoils of his sport. He commented on how I seemed tired. I agreed. He told him I seemed grumpy.

"I'm _not_ grumpy," I insisted angrily.

"Are you sure, Bell, because you're—"

"_I'm not grumpy_," I said again.

Dad held up his hands in surrender. He knew when to end a conversation before things got dicey. I felt bad. I knew it wasn't his fault I was irritated; so I complimented the fish again.

The temperature of the conversation improved drastically when dad asked what the house was like. I lit up immediately the second I opened my mouth; he knew he'd asked the right thing. I described the house as best I could, with my limited knowledge of architecture. I must have used the phrase 'like a dollhouse' and 'like a movie or something' three times. Dad was more comfortable discussing my dream dollhouse than my grumpiness or my boyfriend. He liked being able to seeing that parts of me that were still his little girl, since he'd missed out on more than he'd ever wanted to.

When dinner was done, and the dishes put away, I excused myself so I could take a long, hot shower. Being in a house where humans lived was a harsh reminder of how cold Edward's house was—and yet it wasn't _cold_, just absent of warmth. It wasn't easy to distinguish the two, because humans were warm-blooded, and generated our own constant heat. Even though we weren't reptiles, most people were drawn towards warmth and repelled by cold. Most people preferred summer to the other seasons. It was natural. Although summer had never been my favourite—but a warm fire on a cold night with a mug of hot cocoa was always welcome.

Washing the curls out of my hair was freeing. Never had I been so glad to see my plain, make-up freed reflection in the mirror. What had started out potentially as terrifying had become an enjoyable day. Sure, Edward had spoiled it by leaving me hanging and _not warning me that my dad was about to interrupt_, but if Edward was perfect I could never believe we belonged together.

As I exited the bathroom, I met dad in the hall. He'd been about to knock on the door.

"Oh, I was about to ask how much longer…never mind." He kissed my forehead. "Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight." I stepped aside and let him have the bathroom.

Before I could hide away in my bedroom, Alice's parting words came to me. I knocked on the now shut bathroom door. "Hey, dad?"

He opened the door.

"Alice invited me out tomorrow, so I'll be gone again," I informed gloomily.

"That's fine, I'll be at work in the morning," he said cheerily. He liked the idea of my friendship with Alice a little too much. "What are you and Alice up to? Homework? More shopping?"

"Baseball." The word was like sludge on my tongue.

Dad stared at me blankly for a moment, then burst out laughing, wheezing a little. I rolled my eyes and waiting for him to catch his breathe.

"Oh, Bella." He exhaled the words, still laughing. "Why would you ever say yes to baseball? You hate it."

"I know."

"And your terrible at it," he said, at the same time I said "And I'm terrible at it."

Dad never got a boy child, so he'd tried to train me into becoming a tomboy, but it never happened. My head was devoted to books and not balls and televised games; my body had been to prone to tripping and dropping things. Baseball was the most humiliating of all his attempts to change me. At least basketball I could get the ball in the hoop every twentieth try, but baseball…I never hit the ball, not once.

"Who are you playing? More girls, I hope," he said. Maybe it was dismissive and insulting to females everywhere, who could play baseball, but he was right; at least I wouldn't look as wimpy in comparison.

"Edward's family," I mumbled.

His laughter stopped. From the way he looked at me, I knew he considered saying something about how much time I was spending with Edward, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Alice insisted," I emphasized. "I tried to say no, but she's convinced that we'll be best friends by the end of the week. She's trying too hard."

He smiled again and chuckled.

"It's a good thing I like her she'd getting irritating really quickly," I confessed. I smiled sheepishly. "That and she bought me a whole new wardrobe, which I owe her for eternally."

"I noticed the mall on your floor," he said, relieved to know where the items had come from. "She really is trying too hard."

"If she has a birthday coming up, I'll just wrap up one of the dresses she forced on me," I joked.

"I'm glad you're making so many friends." It showed on his face. He was proud that I fit into the place he called home.

"Goodnight." I ducked my head and went back to my bedroom.

"Bella."

I stopped, leaned against my doorframe and faced him.

"You were out really late tonight." His eyes tightened.

"I'm seventeen," I reminded him. "I was only out until seven."

"I know, I know." He set his hands on his hips. He looked down. "There have been some attacks in the area. No where in town, but near by—increasingly near by."

I remembered him talking about animal attacks. Hadn't he warned me before? It seemed silly to worry about animals when I was playing baseball with vampires.

"Someone from town was killed today." Dad didn't look up.

I almost dropped the clothes in my arms. "Oh my God, Dad…I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "I didn't know him well. No one knew him well, really. He spent a lot of his last days drunk." He sniffled and then cleared his throat. "Dave was a good guy, he just lost himself a little, after the divorce."

The parallels made my heart sink. Dad had been alone for a long time—and as far as I knew, he hadn't dated anyone since mom—but he'd continued to live, to have friends. I hated to think that this man, Dave, was someone in dad's situation, who hadn't gotten the chance to put his life back together.

"He drove his car off the road, and when he got out, he must've spooked the animal or something," he explained, "because when we found him today there was hardly any blood left. The flesh was half torn off—"

"_Dad_," I whispered.

He caught sight of my pale face and muttered to himself about forgetting to himself around me. "I-I'm sorry, Bella. I just want you to know that this thing is out there and you have to be careful. It's wandering too close to town. I'd hate to see you get hurt."

"I understand." I bit my lip.

"Good." He dropped his hands and stepped back. "Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight." I turned and shut my bedroom door behind me, tossing the dress in my laundry hamper as I passed it. I crawled onto my bed and stuffed my face into the pillow. A second later I felt weight on the bed. "Please be Alice."

The deep chuckle indicated how wrong I was.

I rolled onto my side and propped my head up with my pillow. "I distinctly remembering saying goodbye to you earlier."

"You looked to upset with me," Edward insisted, "I couldn't leave on bad terms."

"Maybe I can convince dad to put bars in the window," I mused, mostly to myself. "The recent animal attacks might be the leverage I need."

Edward stiffened at the mention of the animal, which seemed strange to me. I narrowed my eyes at him. He didn't say anything, even though I'd teased him. It was a very strange reaction. I sat up and shoved closer to him.

"Someone was killed today," I told him in a hushed voice. "Dad said there was hardly any blood left when they found the guy. Funny."

"I don't see the humour in a dead body," Edward stated tonelessly.

I shoved closer so that my knees touched his leg. "You know something," I accused. "What aren't you telling me?"

He didn't deny it. He looked at me condescendingly, like I was a child trying to stay up past my bedtime. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"Ah-ha!" I cheered. "So you _do_ know something."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Yes, very good, Detective Swan, you got me."

I put a hand on his leg and leaned forward. "Come on, what's with the animal attacks?"

Edward brushed a hand through my damp hair. "There are more monsters in this world than the ones you know," he said simply. "It's better to let them be."

"Is a vampire behind these attacks?" I demanded.

Edward shrugged. He would neither confirm nor deny. It was irritating.

"Fine, but shouldn't you do something about it?" I questioned. "Your supernatural—shouldn't you try to keep other supernatural troublemakers out of your town or something? Or don't you care about the people here?"

"We care." Edward's hand dropped to my neck. His eyes met mine for a moment, and then drifted down. "We would interfere if it became a larger problem. Most likely whoever is responsible will move on quickly. Vampires are mostly a nomadic species; it's impossible to settle in one place if you're feeding off the population. Someone would notice. Only my family and another coven like us—"

"In Denali," I guessed.

"Yes," he continued. "We can stay in one place. We're also abnormally large for a coven. We're the second largest—that we know of. Then the Denali coven."

"Who's in first?"

Edward's eyes met mine. He frowned. "The Volturi."

My eyes widened. "So they're still around. Carlisle never went back to them?"

Edward shook his head once. "They've increased their number greatly since he was with them."

"So_ if_ it is a vampire behind these attacks, he or she is alone?"

He nodded. "Most likely. Alice is watching."

I shuddered. Alice was playing big sister.

Before I could pry further into the matter, Edward pressed his mouth to mine. This kiss he'd denied me before had left me too ready. My whole body warmed in spite of his cool skin. He pushed me down and his hand caressed my cheek, and then moved down my neck, over my shoulder, and finally stopped by my side, where he put his hand on the bed. When I needed to breath, his lips moved slowly down my neck to my chest. I tried to say his name, to stop him, but I was too flustered to speak. Edward kissed my shoulder and pulled down the strap of my pajama top. My heart couldn't go any faster. I was definitely terrified. Every muscle in my body tensed. Edward paused and listened. I turned my head down to guess at what he had heard. His eyes seemed to see under my skin. Had his eyes gotten darker, or was I imagining that hunger in his eyes? He gripped my arm tightly.

There were three knocks at the door and then the door opened. I sat up with such force—expecting that I'd have to shove Edward away—that I toppled over the side of the bed. Dad looked down at me, too surprised to ask why I was there.

"Bella, if you're falling out of your own bed, I don't think you should have high hopes for this game tomorrow." Dad crossed the room and handed me a slip of paper. "Jessica called while you were out. She said to call. I wasn't sure if you had her number."

"Thanks." I examined the number. It was Jess' cellphone. I had it somewhere, but it couldn't hurt to have another copy. "I'll call her tomorrow."

Dad nodded. "Sorry if I startled you."

"No, no, you didn't." I was still breathless. "I just…I was…stretching. Alice convinced me to wear heels and…yeah, I needed a good stretch. My legs weren't used to the elevation."

Dad seemed even more confused than before. "Uh huh."

"Yes. Okay, goodnight, again."

"Goodnight, Bella." He grabbed the doorknob and backed up slowly.

"I love you," I said with a grin, as if that would make him turn a blind eye to my sudden strangeness.

"Love you too, Bell." He shut the door. He probably stood there for a second; debating if he should take me to a doctor in case I'd suffered a head injury.

With the door shut again, I lay back down, exhaled heavily, groaned and closed my eyes. Edward had almost gotten me into a heap of trouble. Dad had never been tested when it came to making rules about how I should behave—mom had been there for most of those lessons. I'd never misbehaved around him, so he would probably cram seventeen years of not being around to ground me into one.

"That was close," I said, sitting up.

Edward leaned against the windowsill, hands clasped and eyes on the floor. "I…am truly sorry, Bella." His voice was frail.

"That's _twice_ today you didn't warn me he was coming," I complained. "You need to get your vampire hearing checked."

"Not about that," Edward whispered.

My heart must have stopped. Edward looked up and his eyes met mine for half a second, and then he stood and turned his back to me.

It wasn't that he hadn't heard my dad coming; he hadn't _cared_. It was exactly what I'd thought it was. My heart had been racing, and Edward had listened to it too closely. He'd been in the moment; his own emotions just as exposed up as mine, and his instincts had flared. He'd said it earlier when he'd driven me home; he felt he could be himself with me. He opened up with me, and he'd given into his human instincts, wanting me for all the reasons I wanted him—sharing the same feeling when he hadn't kissed me goodnight—and then my heartbeat reminded him of my blood. My heartbeat, pumping my blood faster and faster, had made the instincts he'd practiced to suppress fresh again. If my dad hadn't knocked at that exact moment—if he'd come a second later—Edward's thirst for me might have been too much.

"You resisted," I said. My voice was choked, but I wanted to focus on the positive.

"Barely," he said. He sounded more terrified than me, and I was the victim.

It took courage, but I got on my feet and pushed back the terror inside me. I leaned my cheek on his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his torso, my chest against his back. We stayed like that for a few minutes. I could almost forget he wasn't warm. He held his hand over mine, squeezed my fingers, and spun me. He scooped me up light I was feather-light—and to him I surely was—and we tumbled onto the bed together. His arms were around me, and my head was tucked into the curve of his neck, my cheek on his chest. Our legs tangled and I felt his hand lightly stroking my hair. I closed my eyes.

"You are too good for me, Bella," Edward murmured sweetly. He kissed the crown of my head.

My smile crept into my voice. "No, I'm not."

"It doesn't matter anymore," he whispered, "since I'm never letting you go."

My eyes flashed open. How many times had I heard him say that? Each time it had new meaning. Sometimes it was a warning; sometimes it was a promise. Tonight, it was a little sad. It reminded me of the dreams I'd had featuring Edward. The dreams had stopped, but the feeling they gave me hadn't. In my dreams Edward and I had fought to stay apart and fought to come together. Now that we were together, nothing had changed. He said he was never letting go, but it sounded like he said it more to himself to me, because he was afraid of what would happen if he did let me go. I wanted to reassure him, tell him I would never leave. There was no way I could promise that; I knew there plenty of ways that I could be pulled away from him. I wished I were an optimist; but I saw shadows looming in our future that even Alice's predictions couldn't keep away.

"Alice can't force you to come tomorrow," Edward promised me. "If you don't want to, I—"

"I want to," I said. "Not for the baseball—be_lieve_ me, I could use less of _that_ in my life—but I like your family."

Edward's hand stopped and fell onto my shoulder. "You didn't feel too crowded?"

I shook my head slightly. "I remember when I was little wondering what it would be like if I had siblings…what it was like to have a big family, like my most of my friends did." I paused, the memories of old friends, of birthday parties where the siblings were always automatically invited, when an older sibling would pick a friend up after school, or when a friend would say their new clothes were hand-me-downs from a brother or sister. "I think I was jealous, since I was alone a lot as a kid. It would've been nice to have a brother or a sister." I slid my arm back so that my hand was on his side and tilted my head back to see his face. "Being with your family today, I learned a little of what it might be like."

Edward kissed my lips, soft and gentle, and then my forehead. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

"Would really, _really_ happy be a fair guess?" I teased.

He made ne response, but continued to hold me. That was enough of an answer. He was happy that I liked his family. It was such a simple thing to be happy about, but making him happy about one small thing made me happy too. This was something normal, human couples did—they met each other's families and hoped to get along. If this was how it was going to be—afternoons with his family, sunny days in the meadow, holding me close at night—I would be happy to spend my life that way until the day I died. If Edward could somehow gain complete control over his thirst, we could be a normal couple. It was too good to be true, but that thought alone gave me good dreams all night. I dreamed we were in the meadow, embraced just the same, while a cold breeze blew over us and the earth below burned hot. Hidden in the trees and wolf howled at the swollen moon overhead; it was like a song and it filled my head with dizzying, sweet melodies. I heard the song Edward wrote for me, and the tune the wolf howled faded. The moon stayed in the sky though, even as the sky brightened.

* * *

><p>I have no great words of wisdom, just this to say: Thank you for reading. As always, I appreciate reviews. They make me happy! I need some happy right now, since I have a terrible cold.<p>

Have a wonderful week. Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there! Since that's two days away (at least here it is, it might be different in other countries)!

TTFN.


	18. Chapter 17: The Game

_17. THE GAME_

IT WAS JUST BEGINNING TO DRIZZLE but the sound was enough to wake me. The sound was accompanied by the awareness that I was the only body on my bed. I blinked away my drowsiness. My alarm clock read ten-thirty precisely. I sat up in surprise. Vampires didn't sleep, so that meant they were early risers by default. That meant they were waiting on me—if they were still waiting. They'd probably started without me. Edward bored of watching me sleep and went to swing a bat around while I lazily slept the day away. I hadn't set my alarm, but I hadn't expected to sleep in so late. Had I been that tired? I couldn't remember.

The clothes Alice had purchased for me weren't suitable for a baseball game, so I had to consult to my own wardrobe. I put my hair in a high ponytail, wore an older pair of jeans, put on the only sport-bra I owned, and a baggy red t-shirt. I had one baseball cap—not that it had any team logos, it was just a plain white cap, but I thought it helped me look the part, which might make up for not being able to play the part.

It wasn't until I got to the top of the stairs that I realized there were voices in the kitchen. Cautiously I came down the stairs, peeking around the corner to see them before they saw me. I saw my dad first—no big shock there—and then I saw Billy. They were laughing about something. Dad spotted me and called me over.

"Good morning," I mumbled. "Hi, Billy."

"Bella," he returned.

"Hey, Bella." Jacob sat on the other side of the kitchen table. He'd been obscured from my view before.

"Oh, hi, Jake." I looked at my dad for answers.

"Billy stopped by just as I was on my way to work," dad said. "He has a lead on the animal."

"Oh?" I tried not to look too interested. I put a slice of bread in the toaster and poured myself a glass of milk.

"Spotted on the west side of town," Billy added.

"It's not much, but at least someone had seen the damn thing," Dad said gruffly. "First real shot we've had in weeks."

"That's not the only reason I stopped by though," Billy said. "Jacob wanted to see about Bella."

Jacob's expression turned mortified. I chugged my glass of milk, pretending I didn't understand what Billy meant. The toast popped up and I had an excuse to turn my back to them.

"You seem to be in a hurry," Billy noted.

"Yeah, I'm playing baseball with some friends," I said. No need to say which friends. I shot dad a look, to see if he would spill.

"Not the best weather for it," Jacob said, nodding toward the window.

Rain was now beating against the glass. The earth was soaked. There wouldn't be any dirt when someone slid into home plate; it was be a muddy victory to anyone who attempted. I knew that person wouldn't be me; I voted myself as cheerleader. I would practice catchy rhymes on the way over and prove that I was better on the sidelines.

"Are you sure Alice wouldn't cancel?" Dad asked.

"Did she call?"

"Nope."

I sighed. "Figures. They're a rain or shine sort of people."

"Alice who?" Jacob asked. "Was she at the beach that time…?"

"Ah, no." I bit my lip. This was what I'd wanted to avoid. Talking about my increased interaction with the Cullens in front of Billy was asking for trouble; revealing that I was dating Edward wasn't something I wanted to admit to Jacob. I'd thought a lot of rotten stuff about Edward before he came clean with me, and Jacob had heard most of it. Not only would he be confused, but also he'd probably think I was mental. He didn't have the full version of events like I did. I turned my back and buttered my toast and then spread jam over it. "Alice Cullen."

The room was silent. I nibbled at my slice of toast. I finished it before anyone spoke again, and it was the person I _least_ hoped would speak.

"Bella's dating one of the Cullen boys," Dad informed grumpily. He gave Billy a look that made it clear he wasn't on Team Edward.

"You're…dating him now." Jacob's voice was stern, but quiet. Yes, he was confused; he had every right to be.

"Yeah." It sounded stupid, it wasn't enough, but it was all I could think to say. I put my glass in the dishwasher and leaned against the sink, so it would seem like I was looking at the window at the poor weather; but it was painfully obvious it was an excuse not to look at him.

"Bella, can I talk to you for a sec?"

Reluctantly, I nodded. Jacob headed out of the room toward the front door. I sneakily spied over my shoulder as I followed him. Billy and Dad exchanged looks. Dad quirked a confused brow and then he and Billy chuckled together, conspiring against me. Dad would happily set me up with anyone, as long as it wasn't Edward. Why he'd reached this conclusion, I wasn't sure. I blamed Edward for kissing my cheek with my dad standing in the doorway; it was too much too soon for a dad whose daughter had never dated before.

Jacob stood by the window, and I squared off in front of him. Nervously, I toyed with the end of my ponytail. Jacob, I realized, how grown a little. He was taller than me by an inch. He wasn't as skinny as he used to be. He'd looked more like fifteen, but now he seemed older. Maybe I'd missed his birthday.

"I thought you didn't like him," Jacob scolded in a hushed tone. "You sounded _afraid_ of him."

"I was…overreacting." Another dumb choice of words for a very smart question; he'd understood what I'd said to him, every word, and even if I'd basically told him I believed the stories he'd told me, he still understood my feelings were real. If Edward had become a real threat, Jacob could have been there for me. Now that I knew Edward was a vampire, it was a secret I had to keep from Jacob, and the reason why I'd changed my mind about Edward had to be kept secret too. There was no lie I could tell him that would make even half as much sense as the truth—and the truth, too, was crazy.

"Bella, if there's something going on…" He reached for me, but pulled back.

"It's complicated, and I can't explain it all," I admitted, speaking quickly and quietly, sneaking looks over to the other room, worried we'd be overheard. "A lot of stuff happened—and I can't tell you it because it's a secret I promised to keep."

"Bella, if this secret it hurting you—"

"I'm fine, seriously," I said. I lifted my head and met his eyes confidently. "Don't worry about me, okay, Jake? I actually owe Edward my life. Before you ask"—I held up my hand as Jacob's eyes widened—"my dad knows all about it, mostly. I didn't tell him the graphic details—okay that sounded really bad, what I meant was I told my dad that Edward saved me from a bad situation in Port Angeles. That's all you need to know. I trust Edward now. I owe him the chance to prove he's a good guy."

Jacob eyes were full of concern, but he didn't speak. My answers lacked details and were full of holes, but it was true, and he could feel that. I would never lie to Jacob; he would see through it. Jacob couldn't forget how afraid I'd once been of Edward, but if I could convince Esme that I wanted to stay, then there had to be a way to show Jacob that I was okay.

"I said some scary things to you before, I'm sorry." I shrugged one shoulder and crossed my arms. "I was confused about a lot of things. I understand it better now."

Jacob exhaled out his nose sharply. He pivoted and set his hands on his hips. The rain had made everything cooler, but Jacob was irritated enough that steam might blow out his ears. He stared at the wall a long time. He tried to turn back to me twice, but changed his mind. His hands dropped to his sides and he crooked his head toward me.

"If you ever need…a friend, someone to talk to, I'm here," he promised. He put his hand on my shoulder. He swallowed, nervous. His hand fell and he shoved his hands in his back pockets. "I just want you to know that."

"Thank you." I don't know what compelled me, but my body leaned forward and I hugged him. I wasn't someone who felt comfortable hugging people, and I never initiated a hug, but there seemed to be no better way to show my appreciation—to show what he meant to me.

When I heard two loud knocks at the door, I left Jacob and answered the door. Edward waited on the doorstep, looking agitated and refused to meet my eyes. There were two unusual cars out front of my house; the black beat-up Ford belonged to Billy and Jacob, so the monstrous Jeep had to be Edward's.

"Dad, I'm going out not," I called into the house. I looked at my runners and my black rubber boots. Playing baseball in rubber boots was silly, but it was raining cats and dogs so I slipped into the boots.

"Don't be out too late," he returned. "Remember, we haven't caught that animal yet!"

I grabbed my raincoat and shrugged it on. "Okay. Bye!" I waved once at Jacob. "See you again soon, okay?"

He nodded sharply, but he wouldn't look my way, not with Edward there. I shut the door and took Edward's hand.

"What's got you looking so glum? Is it the rain?" It was the first time I had such a sunny disposition on such a rainy day. I could've jumped from puddle to puddle I was so giddy. I'd cleared things up with Jacob, and he hadn't shunned me for it, and I'd spent the night before cuddling with my super hot boyfriend, and I'd spent the day before touring my dream home with my boyfriend's intensely interesting vampire family. The rain might be coming down, but I felt like things were looking up, finally.

"Being friends with him…complicates things."

"Friends with who? Billy? I'm not—"

"The kid," Edward corrected. "Billy has his reasons for disliking my family; I can't blame him for wanting to keep on eye on you and Charlie."

"Firstly, Jacob's not a _kid_, he's only a year younger than me," I argued, desperately trying to keep my tone light, although it was harder than I thought. "Secondly, I know Billy knows what you are, but it's not like he can tell anyone, since you made a pact with his ancestors—unless that's just a legend—you never really said one way or another if it was true. Thirdly, make sure you don't call my dad by his name to his face. He already has it out for you, being my first boyfriend."

"The pact is true," Edward confirmed. "I'm not afraid of either of them telling anyone—although Jacob did tell _you_…but he doesn't believe in it, not yet."

"Yet?" I stopped beside the Jeep and pulled my hand away.

"It's nothing," he lied. He opened the door for me.

I considered going back inside—I hated to be lied to—but Alice wanted me to come, and Edward had promised that the things he couldn't share with me now he would tell me later. Maybe this was one of those things. I let him help me into the car. It was raised, as the Jeep was four-wheel-drive vehicle built to go off paved roads. The engine roared to life. Edward buckled me in—and I would have complained, but I was intimidated by the Jeep and wanted to touch as few things as possible.

"Can we still play in the rain?"

Edward chuckled as he pulled onto the road. "We can play _because_ of the rain."

"You lost me."

"See that?" Edward pointed out the window and a moment later lightning struck. "We're very competitive, and play with all our strengths, which makes for a nosy game. Thunder"—right on cue thunder rolled loudly behind us—"helps disguise the sound."

I watched the sky for a second bolt. "So, do I get to pick which team I'm on?"

"You won't be playing," Edward told me.

I grinned and relaxed into the seat. "You heard about my amazing cheerleading skills, huh?"

Edward's face contorted for a second before he realized it was a joke.

"Edward, Edward, he's our vamp! If he can't hit it, Alice can tell you who can!" I pumped my fist in the air and clapped twice. "Go Team Edward!"

"I hope that wasn't a serious attempt." Edward was watching me instead of the road again.

"I'll have you know that little ditty won me the baseball cheering championships at my old high school," I bragged falsely. "Of course the words were a little different, like, vamp was actually the lake-monster Louie, and our resident psychic was Alana. So, it was a little different."

Edward's lips slipped into a smile. Whatever he disliked about Jacob wasn't enough to keep my poor attempts at humour from turning that frown upside down.

On the ride over, Edward reminded me the rules of baseball. He said I wouldn't see much of it—my human eyes were too slow—but at least when Esme, who was the referee today, made calls, I would understand. It was only a fifteen-minute drive. Edward drove off the road and parked. We walked through the trees on the left side of the road. Edward took my hand and steered me around bushes and tree roots. The leaves above us kept most of the rain from hitting us, but we were spat on every other step. The way to the clearing wasn't easy, and my feet slipped a few times. It took us another fifteen minutes to reach the edge of the trees. They were all there in a clearing that was probably twice the size of a regular professional baseball field. Jasper and Esme were tossing something back and forth, but my eyes couldn't trace it; Alice practiced swinging a bat; Carlisle marked the bases, much farther apart than what I'd seen on TV; Rosalie had her arms around Emmet's neck, but when she saw me she dropped her arms and angled herself to properly glare at me. I made my way to Esme so I could pretend to watch—because Edward was convinced I'd never comprehend what was happening.

"Teams are as follows," Alice announced. "Rosalie, Jasper, and Edward are up to bat. Carlisle, Emmett, and myself—assume the positions!"

They scattered. Carlisle stood between first and second base; Emmet went to the outfield; Alice took the pitcher's mound. Rosalie was first up to bat. It was at this point that I realized none of them had gloves; they intended to catch bear-handed. It was a good thing they were so indestructible.

"Alright, no cheating," Esme warned, "we want to make a good impression on Bella." She winked at me. "Batter up!"

Alice stared Rosalie down, like a cobra about to strike. Rosalie wasn't intimidated. She had her knees bent and she didn't blink. Alice's throw was so fast I didn't see it; I only heard the crack as the ball hit. Carlisle caught it. Rosalie only made it to first. Alice's pitches were like cobra strikes, fast and deadly. Even with all that power, Rosalie had been stumped—and yet the sound the ball made had shook the clearing is was so powerful. I wouldn't last two seconds in a game with either of them.

Edward was next. Alice's eyes narrowed a moment. Edward did the same. A loud crack was followed immediately by thunder, and they sounded so similar it wasn't hard to understand why they waited for thunderstorms to play ball when each time the ball made contact it echoed in the mountains and probably shook the trees. Edward's hit flew the ball into the outfield. Emmett caught it by the tree line, but already Rosalie made it home and Edward to third. Jasper took the bat and swung it once as practice. Alice had been so solemn before, but now smiled and wound her arm up, playing with Jasper in more way than one. Jasper, who had always looked so pained around me, smirked at Alice's attempts to throw him off. She eventually stood still and I heard the ball crack again.

Jasper made it to second and Edward touched home. Rosalie batted again and this time it went into the outfield. Jasper slid into home, and Rosalie stepped onto third, just as Emmett nabbed the ball. (I only knew this because Esme gave me a play-by-play.) This time when Edward hit the ball Carlisle caught it, so Edward only made it to second base. Esme explained that it was Jasper's last turn before everyone swapped positions. Alice didn't go easy on him, and Carlisle caught the ball before Jasper could make it to second. Edward was so fast that he made it to home plate easily.

The teams traded positions. Edward stood in the outfield, Jasper at the pitcher's mound, and Rosalie between first and second. Emmett proved that his muscles weren't just for show; his was the loudest break, and I flinched, hands automatically raised to my ears. Edward also got a chance to show off his speed again, since despite Emmett's powerful hit—sending the ball past the tree line—Edward still caught it every time. Alice's didn't strike with a lot of power, but she was sharp, and wasn't worried when she only made it to first. She made it to third when Carlisle batted. Alice and Edward were the fastest, and now I'd seen it with my own eyes.

They traded positions a few times more, and I lost track of the score often. Esme kindly reminded me whenever I looked completely lost—and she told me stories to entertain me when watching the impossibly fast movement made my head dizzy. She told me about when Emmett was first changed and challenged everyone to arm wrestling. He still challenged Edward often, but since Edward never accepted, Emmett was often disappointed. Sometimes Jasper could be coaxed into a spar, but Jasper was more skilled at fighting, and usually won. Esme also told me a time when Alice and Edward were locked in a staring contest for two weeks—of course it hadn't started as a staring contest. They'd been playing chess, but since Alice could predict Edward's moves, and Edward could read her mind, neither of them could make a move the other couldn't counter. The game was entirely mental, and not a single piece was moved in those two weeks. The only reason they stopped was because there was a thunderstorm that allowed for a game of baseball. Alice and Edward had been forced to swear to never play chess—or any strategy game—against each other for more than three days.

Alice's team had the upper hand, and she was up to bat. Alice wasn't the best batter, but with Emmett up next and Alice's speed, they might both make it home on the next swing. Rosalie was pitching this round. She didn't hit as hard or fast as the others, but she had a few tricks up her metaphorical sleeves (she wasn't actually wearing sleeves, but a slim black tank top that left her arms bear).

My hat had done little to protect me from getting wet. The rain in the clearing was lighter than over the town, but my hair was still damp. There was a slight wind, which forced the clouds away, allowing a little more sun onto the clearing. I tucked my hat down lower so the rim would shield my eyes from the now bright sun.

I heard something fly by and a loud snap beside me. I jumped away and covered my ears. Esme had caught the ball beside me. Rosalie had thrown the ball at Alice, but Alice had dropped the bat at the last second. She turned sharply, her eyes fixed on something behind us. Edward had his arm around me before I could blink.

"They heard our game," Alice said. Her eyes were wide. "They were leaving, but—"

"How close?" Carlisle asked.

Edward shook his head. "Less than a minute. They want to play."

"There are only three of them," Emmett growled. "We can take them."

"I've seen that outcome and someone would die," Alice insisted. "Bella, or Rosalie…one of them is dangerously gifted. We can't fight them head-on."

"If they want to play, then they can play," Carlisle suggested. "We don't need to antagonize them." Carlisle exchanged a look with Esme and she bolted for the pitcher's mound. "First chance you get,"—he put his hand on Edward's shoulder—"you take her away."

Edward nodded. He unzipped his coat and put it on me. Rosalie's eyes widened and she shook her head. She knew it wouldn't work. There were vampires coming—the kind that fed on humans, and had killed the man my dad had known—and my scent wouldn't be disguised so easily.

My hands shook and my throat was tight. I put my arm around Edward's waist and pressed my cheek against his chest. "What will they do if they realize—"

"I won't let anything happen to you," he whispered. He kissed the top of my head and wrapped his arms around me.

Edward's family had taken their positions, with Edward sitting out. They put on masks of indifference. I closed my eyes, inhaled and exhaled deeply, and tried to mirror them. My accelerated heart rate was the only sign that I wasn't just as tranquil and relaxed as them.

Esme pitched and Emmett hit the ball, but he didn't hit it far. The game was only continued so the three vampires wouldn't notice that their approach was no longer secret.

"If coming here today put your family in danger, I'm sorry," I said in a barely audible voice. The sound was choked. If I cried, it was just another sign that I was human; I forced myself to be still and calm.

"This isn't your fault," he told me. "I shouldn't have let you come, not before they'd moved on. It was stupid of me to allow it." His eyes hardened with anger. He was the only one in the clearer who betrayed what he was really feeling.

"Next time I agree to something involving baseball, you stop me," I joked, "it's bad luck for me."

His expression relaxed. He let me stand at arm's length, but he kept his arm around my shoulders. He backed us away a few paces. His eyes tightened but his expression remained calm.

I watched Alice and Edward exchange a long, tense look, and then they both looked at the opposite end of the clearing at once. At the same time, the Cullens jerked their heads in the same direction, finally hearing the approach Alice had predicted. It took only seconds for what they were hearing yards away, too far for my ears, to enter into the clearing.

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><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: So this chapter is a lot like the original (in the book), and so will the next two chapters, and they're very <em>very <em>short. Things will change up again when James gets involved, and the plans to sneak Bella out of Forks go awry.

Thanks for reading! REVIEW PLEASE!


	19. Chapter 18: The Hunt

_18. THE HUNT_

THEY EMERGED ONE BY ONE FROM THE FOREST EDGE, RANGING IN A DOZEN METERS APART. The first thing I noticed was the way the moved. They didn't walk, but stalked forward like the tigers I'd seen in nature specials. Their eyes—a striking red—took in the clearing with a steady slowness. They weighed each of us in their minds. Their clothes were torn and their feet bear. There were two men and one woman. The closed together the further they came into the clearing. They stopped a few yards away, just as Jasper backed up to stand beside Rosalie. The three red-eyed vampires had closed ranks and so had the Cullens.

The three arranged themselves in a triangle, a demonstration of who the leader of the pack was. The man in front had long, tangled black hair and his skin, though chalky, had a dark tone to it. He straightened and composed himself so that his animal posture was almost gone, seeming deceivingly human. He had some muscle definition, but nothing compared to Emmett. He was the tallest of his group, and taller than any of the Cullens. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt and khaki cargo pants, the pockets hanging loose and undone. His expression shifted from cautious to friendly, and his smiled showing two rows of perfectly white teeth, fangs just touching his lower lip.

"We heard your game," he said in a French accent. "It has been quite some time since we played." He stepped forward and bowed his head. "I am Laurent." He raised his head and gestured to the two behind him. "My friends are James and Victoria."

The vampire James was more feral than Laurent; even with his postured straightened he seemed ready to leap forward and his smile seem closer to a grimace. He had straight brown hair cropped short, and he was smaller than Laurent, sleeker and everything about him was narrow.

The woman had long waves of orange hair, that shone brilliantly even with the clouds blocking any sun from reaching her. Leaves and thorns were caught in her amber locks, and it made her seem like a creature of the forest, rather than someone with human form. Her skin was white, which caused the red of her eyes to stand out more, making it nearly impossible not the look, even thought it frightened me. She was small and thin, with soft round shoulders, which were bear because of her white tank top. The yellow skirt she wore was shredded, but hung long in strands over her legs. Her full, round lips pouted at us, one eyebrow raised to show mild curiosity.

Like the vampires I knew, these three were all beautiful and alluring, but the one named James was somehow plain, someone who could fade into a crowd if he chose to. Victoria and Laurent would find it difficult to blend in, and although I knew they were dangerous too, they didn't give me an uneasy feeling in my stomach like James did.

Carlisle stepped forward and his family gathered a little closer. "I am Carlisle. This is my family. Jasper and Rosalie,"—he extended a hand in their direction—"Emmett, Esme, Alice, Edward and Bella." He made a sweeping motion, categorizing me as part of his family.

"Would you mind if we joined you for a game?" Laurent walked forward casually a few steps, at ease and his smile unwavering. He suspected nothing—yet.

"Not at all, two of us were just leaving." Carlisle echoed Laurent's casual smile. He spoke with friendliness and calm. "You can take their spots."

Edward moved forward, pulling me with him. He led to where we'd entered the clearing from, just to the side of the field, which meant first going closer to Laurent, James, and Victoria. I knew he thought the Jeep was the best way to get me out of there in a hurry, but I would have felt safer taking the long away around, through the woods behind us. It was almost impossible to keep my expression blank.

"Are you staying in the area much longer?" Carlisle asked.

Laurent and his coven came closer onto the field, fooled by Carlisle's welcoming demeanor. Alice and Esme backed away from the centre of the field toward us, a two-woman barrier between the three strangers and me.

"We were headed north," Laurent answered. "We haven't met anyone for some time, and you have such a large number…"—he gestured to us, _all_ of us—"I am curious as to how you are able to stay undetected."

"It's a long story," Carlisle said with a laugh. "We keep a permanent residence nearby. You're welcome if you want to hear our story."

Laurent's eyes widened. "A _permanent_ settlement?"

"There's another coven like us in Denali," Carlisle added, "whom we consider our extended family."

"Are they as great in number?" It was the woman who asked. Her voice so young, the pitch higher than expected. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, maybe a little older, but her voice was more like a child's, or maybe she'd ingested too much helium when she was human. The tone was strangely sweet, like syrup, and it made my insides cringe.

"Yes," Carlisle answered, "they are."

"We had no idea such large covens could still exist without persecution," Laurent complimented. He seemed earnestly pleased with this news. He held out a hand for the ball and Esme passed it to him. He weighed it in his hands a moment. "This is a story we would be very interested in hearing." He threw the ball at Emmet, who had indicated he was open. Emmett threw the ball back and Laurent staggered. He smiled at the show of force.

Edward and I were just a few wide steps from leaving the clearing. Carlisle had handled it flawlessly. I closed my eyes for a second and exhaled slowly. That was my mistake. I didn't see the fallen branch jutting up from the ground, and one of its offshoots slipped under my pant leg when I tripped and scratched my skin. Tripping would have been an unmistakable sign on it's own, but I knew from the way my skin stung that any vampire worth his salt would catch the scent. It wasn't a lot of blood, barely a drop, but it was enough.

Immediately, Laurent, James and Victoria drew together. Laurent held his arm out to signal to stay back. James and Victoria were hunched and snarled. Their lips had been sealed before, but now they turned up and opened. Victoria was livid. James was the opposite; he was ecstatic.

"She is human," Laurent observed. His eyes shot nervously between Carlisle and me.

"She's with us," Carlisle said in a low voice, one palm forward to pause anyone from taking action. "Please let us discuss this matter calmly and settle it peacefully. We will not stand for her to be harmed."

Edward stood in front of me, just as ready to pounce as Victoria was. Esme and Alice also had moved closer to us. Emmett and Jasper were on either side of Carlisle, Emmett with his fists clenched and Jasper with an unwavering concentration on his face. In seconds Victoria's mouth shut, clearly affected by Jasper's influence. Laurent straightened again, but James—though he did look away from me once and his broad grin lessened—wasn't easily deterred.

"We would also prefer to avoid an incident," Laurent said, but he wasn't speaking to Carlisle. He turned warning looks on both Victoria and James.

Victoria obeyed and regained human posture. James' expression soured, but he nodded and stood behind Laurent.

"You may take your human and go," Laurent said to Edward. "We won't interfere."

Carlisle nodded once at Edward and then at Emmett. Edward took my arm tightly, and though he moved at a snail's pace for a vampire, I was almost running. Emmett hesitated, but he caught up behind me effortlessly. Once we were in the trees, Edward scooped me into his arms and raced at full speed. I shut my eyes and my stomach clenched. Edward at full speed was like a rollercoaster jolting me into 60 miles an hour instantaneously. When Edward finally set me down I was glad he placed me directly into the passenger seat of the Jeep; I wouldn't have made it on my own I was so dizzy.

We were on the road before my head had time to settle. Edward was pushing the Jeep to its limits and I was experiencing an extreme degree of motion sickness—or maybe that was leftover from the fear of being discovered.

I held my held and tried to keep it still. "That was close."

Edward didn't say anything. The road ahead I recognized, as it led out of town. I remembered the turn that led to Edward's house. We passed it.

"Where are we going?" I half shouted it. My head twisted back; I had a sneaking suspicious we weren't about to pull a U-turn. "Edward, where are you taking me?"

"I have to keep you away from him," he said in a low voice, each word carefully restraining his rage. His eyes were wild and his whole body tense.

"From _who_? Their leader said he didn't want to fight, so it's fine—"

Edward laughed darkly; it was deep, sent shivers through me, and mocked me. "Laurent wasn't the leader of their group. That was just for show. James is the one with the real power."

My face drained. My instinct had been right; James was the most dangerous of the group. "What do you think he's going to do?"

"_Hunt_." He said the word like swallowing poison. "He sole purpose in life is exactly that. He finds someone remarkable, tracks that person, and kills. Not only humans, but also anyone he views as a challenge. By protecting you, Bella, you become his greatest puzzle yet. He's never gone against a coven this size. It fascinates him."

"You read his mind," I realized. I wasn't dizzy anymore, but I still felt sick. My blood was cold and my body heavy. "He wants to kill me."

"I won't let him near you," Edward swore with a snarl.

I inhaled shakily. "You haven't told me where we're going."

"We have to get as far away as possible, go somewhere he would least expect," Edward explained. "He'll track your scent through town, Bella. We can't go back to Forks."

I shot forward. "Dad." All my stomach sickness evaporated. "Edward, if he's going to track my scent, he'll go to my house. I have to warn my dad!"

"We don't have time now."

Rage and fear swarmed through me. My head felt light and my lungs tightened. "Edward, I can't leave without warning him." The pitch of my voice was high and I had to take sharp breaths between my words. "What—about—my friends! Edward." My brain felt like it was floating inside my head. Why was I so dizzy? "He can't hurt them!"

The car slowed slightly, and Edward watched me worriedly. "Bella, calm down. Take a deep breath, I won't let anything happen to you."

"_I don't care about me_!" I screamed. "We have to go back!" I jerked against the seat and tried to pry the seatbelt loose, since I couldn't find the buckle. "Stop the car right now! I have to warn my dad!" I started to sob and hot tears trickled down my cheeks. "Edward—I won't forgive you if something happens to him!"

Edward stopped the car. I'd never felt claustrophobic before, but the inside of the car crushed down on me. In between sobs I tried to catch my breath, but nothing worked. Edward held a cloth over my face and when I struggled to push him off he held it close until I couldn't find any more air. My vision blurred and blackness crept in.

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><p>When I woke up, I was on the couch in Esme's parlor. Esme slid in beside me when I sat up. She handed me a glass of water and rubbed circles on my back. Edward argued with Rosalie and Alice in the next room.<p>

"I thought for sure Edward was going to leave without looking back," I admitted. I took a sip and then set the glass on the coffee table.

"He was," Esme said. "Thankfully, you must have said something to change his mind."

My eyes were wide. That was exactly what I'd been afraid of—maybe threatening to never forgive him was a sneaky tactic, but it was also true, and it had worked. I couldn't have left my dad behind without doing something to protect them. If James could track my scent—and was as obsessed with finding me as Edward had implied—then James would leave no stone unturned. It was too much of a risk to run away without a plan.

"So, has anything been decided?" I twisted around to nod at the arguing voices behind me.

"Edward wants to take you and run," Esme said with a roll of her eyes, "but Emmett wants to eliminate James within the hour." She shrugged. "Some boys don't think with their heads but instead lead with their hearts."

"I know murder is wrong but…why can't you kill James?" I frowned and averted my eyes.

Esme put her hand on my shoulder. "Well, I suppose we will have to now. Talking won't help. Carlisle finished speaking with Laurent just as you woke, and Laurent has warned us that James is a formidable foe."

Laurent had been the most civilized. I was grateful that, even though his eyes were red, he at least was reasonable. Maybe the warning was late, but maybe he'd shared something that would make it easier to survive James' hunt.

"He's abandoned James and Victoria," Esme added, "rather than fight against us. He won't go against James, but he's decided to find our friends in Denali, and try to survive on animal blood."

I laughed once weakly. "At least _one_ good thing came out of today."

"We just need to agree on a course of action," Esme said optimistically. She smiled and put her arm around me. "There's nothing for you to worry about."

I hung my head. "But it's my fault," I pointed out. "James wouldn't causing all this trouble if I wasn't there. Carlisle was doing great covering for us, and then I _tripped_. I did such a stupid, _klutzy_ thing and ruined everything."

Esme touched her head to mine and held me close. "It's okay, Bella," she whispered. She stroked my hair lightly, her hand sweeping back in a steady rhythm. "You mean everything to Edward, and that makes you a part of this family. You are just as important to us as any member, and whatever your faults, we are grateful. Don't worry about what went wrong. We're going to fix this. Together."

As if on cue, everyone entered the parlor. Alice, Jasper, and Carlisle sat down across from me. Emmett and Rosalie stood by the fireplace. Edward sat beside me and brushed a loose hair out of my eyes.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he said. "I made the wrong decision. We should have come back here first."

"We're here now," I allowed.

He smiled tightly and kissed my cheek. I let him put his arm around me, but Esme held my hand. She was the rock I tied myself to as the tide pulled me under. If only my own mother had ever been this stable.

"Laurent has told me that James is not only an exceptionally adept tracker, but he has a dangerous gift, just as Alice saw in her vision." Carlisle was the general of the war meeting; he'd been calm and friendly in the clearing, but now he was serious and his expression unshakably plain. "He can reach into a person's mind and project their worst fears."

No one spoke. When I considered the supernatural talent surrounding me, it was terrifying to see this was what scared them. What monsters feared I stood no chance against.

"The woman has a talent for escaping," Carlisle continued, "and she is James' mate. Laurent won't be involved. Only those two are against us."

"Even if some mental mojo we outnumber them," Emmett argued. "We can take them. Let's go after them. Get this over with."

"They won't approach us now," Alice said, her eyes unfocused and he speech careful. "Victoria can keep herself and James at a safe distance. James is patient. He would wait decades for us to make just one mistake and slip through our defenses." She blinked and her eyes fixed on Edward. "We can't keep Bella hostage and James won't give up."

"Then we can chase after him," Emmett coaxed. "With Alice and Edward on their trail, even this _Victoria_ can't sneak away."

Alice closed her eyes a second. "If we were meticulous and aggressive in our efforts…perhaps." Her eyes snapped open. "If Edward and I worked together we might be able to trap them. It would be difficult. James and Victoria are very resourceful. There are a lot of decisions to follow."

"Bella can't stay in Forks," Edward insisted.

"I agree." Alice stood. "But you won't be going with her."

Edward shot up and was face to face with her in half a second. Jasper stood beside Alice, his jaw tight.

"James saw how close you were to her in the clearing," Alice rationalized. "He knows that if he follows you, he'll find her. If you stay here, we might buy some time, he _might_ assume she's close by. We need every advantage we can get to keep Bella safe."

Edward's eyes tightened a moment, but he backed off.

"What about my dad?" I questioned. "Won't the tracker trace me back to the house? If he's as determined as you all seem to think he is, what if he goes into town and interrogates everyone who's ever met me?"

"He won't go on a killing spree, Bella," Esme assured me. "There are rules, enforced by our kind. He won't let his presence be too widely noticed."

"If you leave we can keep our focus on keeping James and Victoria out of town," Alice promised. "James might be dangerous, but he can't take on all of us."

"He knows that," Edward agreed. "He wants to get Bella alone, if he can."

No one had asked me what I thought of the plan. Since standing angrily got everyone else attention, I tried it and all eyes were on me. "I can't just leave. I can't do that to my dad. If I disappear he'll look for me, and the last time he saw me I was with Edward."

"You could call and say you're running away," Rosalie joked, a small smirk on her lips.

I was about to yell at her to shut up and get a heart, but her words struck me. I lowered myself onto the couch and deliberated. It was dramatic, but I could make it work.

"I could do that," I said.

Rosalie looked at me, puzzled. Esme and Carlisle exchanged looks of surprise. Alice clapped her hands together.

"I wasn't serious; that won't help," Rosalie critiqued. "Your father _will look for you_ if you suddenly call and say you're not coming home."

"I can't _call_ and say I'm running away," I admitted, "but I can go home, pack a bag, and say I've decided to stay with my mom."

"Charlie would believe that," Edward said confidently. He stood beside me, and put his hand on my shoulder. "He's thought about it before."

Guilt dropped into the pit of my stomach like a rock. Dad wanted me to like Forks so badly; it was painful to know I was about to do exactly what would hurt him the most. It was only pretend, and hopefully temporary, but I would abandon him. It made me sick to think about it.

"Jasper and I will go with Bella," Alice decided. "We'll drive south."

Edward shook his head. "Jasper is more useful here."

"This isn't up for debate," Alice shouted. "Bella is coming with us. You'll stay in Forks until we can corner James and Victoria."

"Where will you go?" Esme asked.

"L.A." Alice crossed her arms. "We'll stop there for a week, see if there's any progress. If you can't catch James in that time, Edward can meet us in L.A. and take Bella out of the country."

I shot up. "Out of the country?"

"You know where," Alice said to Edward. He nodded.

Alice and Jasper left the room together. Rosalie and Emmett looked at Edward, who nodded, and then they slipped out the front door. Esme rose from the couch and followed after them.

"You'll have to be very convincing," Edward cautioned me. "No matter what Charlie says, you have to insist on leaving."

"I know," I mumbled.

"Are you ready?"

I blinked back a few tears, took a breath and grinned. "Now or never."

Edward kissed my mouth and held my body close. It was clear it would hurt him more than it hurt me when we were separated. I would've stayed if I could. I touched Edward's cheek and pulled away. He turned into my palm and kissed it.

"I'm sure we won't be apart for long," I promised. "I'm counting on you."

"An hour away from you is an eternity," he whispered, his lips beside my ear. His kissed my neck. "For all that he has done and all he intends to do, I promise he will suffer for it."

His threat gave me goosebumps. I shuddered and drew back. Thankfully Esme returned at that moment so I didn't have to acknowledge his strange promise. She slipped a sweater over my head, said it was Rosalie's, and that hopefully it would disguise my scent long enough for me to get into my house.

"Until we meet again, Bella," she said as she embraced me. "Be well."

"Be careful," I told her.

She smiled and let Edward take me outside, to where Alice and Jasper waited with a small black car. The windows were tinted and the roof was curved. I didn't like the idea of a road trip in a car that small, but Alice told me the backseat was very comfortable, so I didn't say anything more. I got in the back and prepared myself to break my father's heart.

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><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: So the last two chapters were quite similar to the original story, but things will change again with the next chapter. I aim for some bloodshed. Also I gave James an extra super power for more drama. Originally, I wanted to give him the ability to briefly control someone, like a puppeteer, but this will work better. I think. Ha.<p>

Thanks for reading. REVIEW PLEASE!


	20. Chapter 19: Goodbyes

_19. GOODBYES_

When I was very young—I think I was eight—Dad came to my ballet recital, even though at the time Mom and I lived on the opposite coast of the country, in Boston. At eight years old the complexities of divorce and distance and travel were an ocean of unexplained phenomena. Back then I didn't think about the fact Dad had to get time off work or how much a plane ticket would cost or the fact that he had left his home for only the second time in his life—the first being his honeymoon with my mother…and that had resulted in her realizing how much she wanted to be anywhere but Forks. I didn't realize what it meant for him. I only knew what it meant to me. It was the only time he'd come to see me; all other times I'd go to him during the summer and the occasional Christmas. I guess there might have been a time I wondered if he'd wanted to see me at all—like that one trip wasn't enough proof that he'd tried—but somehow I _hadn't_ grown up thinking he wasn't trying. The questions that came to mind never gave him the blame.

_Why did Mom have to move us around so much? It made it harder for Dad to visit_. I don't know when it started, but the idea that Dad had a home while Mom and I only lived in a place temporarily…that idea planted itself in my mind and grew a little each time Mom decided to move.

_What was so great about Forks that Dad got homesick whenever he left_? I had asked him before, why he didn't fly out to see me more often. He'd only said Forks was his home; it was where he belonged…and besides, as long as I kept coming to see him, that was enough, wasn't it? He never blamed anyone, except maybe himself. He wouldn't say it out loud, but I knew he thought it was his fault that Mom had left and I hadn't grown up in Forks. That had been his plan. I wondered if I would've liked his plan.

_Why did Mom never come with me when I visited Dad?_ She'd fly me there, and then fly back to whatever city we called home at the time, leaving me in Dad's care. She refused to stay in Forks.

When my classmates first realized high school would end and life-after-graduation discussions began, I realized that someday Mom wouldn't drag me from place to place. Once I wasn't tied to her, what would happen to us? Would she keep moving on and our contact would be less and less or would she abandon me? I wanted her to change; I wanted her to become the sort of person who would be happy standing still, like Dad was. If I somehow found a place I wanted to stay in, how far away would she be? Mom's path was a mystery, and I knew I had no way of guessing; I also knew she'd never do anything malicious to me. If she stayed, it would be for me. If she wandered, it wouldn't be to hurt me; it would be because she had to. The question I got stuck on was _what about Dad_? If I stayed in one spot, would he find it easier to visit more? Or would he still say Forks was his home? I wondered if I would visit Forks more, or if I would visit less…and less…and then never again. All the time I'd spent in Forks hadn't warmed me to it. Before I moved in with Dad in a permanent way, I probably would've kept my distance, increasingly so.

The future was a fickle thing. Plans didn't matter. Dreams didn't matter. _Okay_, never mind. Dreams and plans _did_ matter, but they should always be tentative; nothing should be written in permanent marker. A year ago I would've laughed if someone told me I'd be sad about leaving Forks. Today I was afraid of never coming back; today I wondered if Dad would forgive me for running away from our home.

Alice parked out front of my house. Jasper was in the passenger seat; Edward and I were in the back. Edward had come for two reasons: to say goodbye and to be my temporary, all-too-clingy bodyguard until Alice, Jasper, and me were on the road out of Forks.

"He's not here," Edward said, speaking to Alice and Jasper. "But Victoria isn't far."

"She's only watching," Alice promised. "She won't confront us on her own."

Edward's eyebrow perked. So did Jasper's. Alice rolled her eyes. I clearly missed something. From what I could guess from their nonverbal communication—and Jasper had clearly picked up on some emotional something that made him have doubts—Victoria posed no threat tonight, but Alice hadn't mentioned what _James_' intentions were.

"It's now or never," I said. It felt cliché and silly—especially when we had a psychic in the car that could confirm or deny the now-or-never with one word—but I was anxious. I didn't want to sit around and debate if James would cause too many problems.

I shuffled over to the car door and reached for the handle; Edward put his hand over mine to stop me. I paused, but decided to ignore him. I opened the door. "I'll try to be quick."

"Don't just try," Edward insisted. "_Be_ quick. We can't chance that James will show himself."

I crawled out of the car and jogged to the front door, feeling that walking—although less obvious—wasn't hasty enough. The front door was open and I closed it behind me. Now that I was inside, for some reason I felt the need to be as silent as possible. I breathed quietly; I stepped quietly. The need to hurry was present, but it was underneath my panic. I didn't know what I was going to stay. I was just glad Billy and Jacob weren't lingering. It would be awkward to explain I was running away if we had guests over.

The baseball game had lasted for a few hours. They'd played past lunch and into the afternoon. My stomach growled. I wondered if there was time for a quick bite. I stood, body angled toward the stairs but mind on the kitchen. I decided to risk it. Why? Because I reasoned that I would handle Dad's reaction better if my stomach didn't growl midway through whatever it was I was going to say.

I raided the shelves and found a granola and berries bar. I unwrapped it and devoured it in three bites. The time was 4:45. Dad wasn't home. With the rogue animal loose there was no telling how late he'd come home. He usually got off about five o'clock, but Edward had ordered me to be quick; I couldn't wait fifteen minutes, could I?

I decided to pack. That would kill some time. Then I would write a note. I'd call later, just to be sure. Just as I exited the kitchen, the phone rang, and the first note of a scream escaped my lips. I clamped my hands over my mouth. There was no need to get my vampire bodyguard worked up because I was a little jumpy. Automatically I answered the phone. "H-hello?"

Edward appeared in front of me, more than a little cross. His expression clearly said _we don't have time for phone calls_.

"Hello, Bella!" It was Jess.

"Jess, this isn't a good time." My heart was pounding. I had to calm down. If I started panicking over little things…well, nothing good would come of it. I was sure of that.

"Oh no no no! I've got some _big_ news!" She sounded excited, and out of breath.

"I'm busy right now. Sorry. I'll have to call you—"

"Oh big frickin' surprise," she said sharply. "You're never around when_ I_ want to talk."

She caught me off-guard. I held the phone closer and faced the kitchen, my back to Edward. "I'm sorry…what do you—"

"I mean _I'm_ always there for you," she said hotly, "but you're never there for _me_. God, Bella."

A new wave of panic, one that fed off the James issue, rose and left me jittery. My tongue tripped over my words. "Jess, I-I am really sorry that—Jess, I don't mean to be a bad friend, there's just some serious sh—some serious _stuff_ going on and I really…I haven't meant to…ignore you."

She exhaled heavily. She adjusted the phone. A door closed. "We all have serious _stuff_, Bella. The earth does not revolve around you."

My eyes rolled up, and I silently pleaded with whatever powers-that-be that were watching would either give me the words to end this conversation politely (yet quickly) or if they could make her reasonable long enough for me to hang up the phone. "Jess, I know the world doesn't—Jess, I _have_ to go. I'll call you later."

"Bella, come on, I've been there for you—and I even played look out for when Edward was eyeing you, which—_you're welcome_. It obviously worked because you two are together now, thanks to me. I let you be alone for so long Port Angeles to have some one on one, _you're welcome_."

"Jess, _please_—"

"You owe me, Swan," she spat into the phone. "Let's not forget when you were _flirting_ with Mike, and stringing along a handful of other guys, even though you totally liked Wonder-Boy-Edward, _probably_ to make him jealous."

I snuck a look at Edward to see how closely he was listening. It was obvious from his expression that he'd heard Jess. He had a question on his face, like was it really true that I'd been trying to make him jealous? He was impatient and his eyes watched the windows anticipating danger, but he was also curious about Jess' accusation.

"Jess, I never flirted with Mike, he just _liked_ me."

It was then that I remembered that I was holding a cordless phone, and, since I'd planned to pack, I went upstairs with the phone to my ear. Edward initially followed behind me, but he used his super-speed to get into my room before me. He planted himself next to my window, becoming like a security camera, scanning methodically.

Jess had continued to chat my ear off while I'd made the climb. "Well now Mike likes _me_," she said. "I finally get the guy and you're not _supporting_ me. I was really hoping we could be good friends, but you don't even have time to_ talk_ to me? That's really lame."

"Jess, I want to be your friend—and I completely support you and Mike being together," I assured her, but hurriedly, searching my closet shelf for where I'd stowed my passport. "I'm happy for you, but something of life-threatening proportions is happening right now. I'll be going away for a while, so tell Angie—"

"Now you want me to deliver your _messages_?" Her voice was shrill now. "Tell Angie yourself! Where the hell are you going anyway? Is Edward taking you on a cruise in the Bahamas? Or are you running away from a serial killer who wants to eat you? Unless it's one of those two reasons, I'm not forgiving you." She hung up.

Bewildered, I discarded the phone on my bed. It rang again. I let it. Edward grew impatient with my pace. He took the clothes I'd tossed onto the bed and shoved them into a duffle bag he'd found in the closet—an old faded pink dance bag from my ballerina days, with my old dance studio logo on it. I shoved my passport in my back pocket.

Edward grabbed my face so I would look at him. Our eyes met. He didn't exactly look at ease, but he was calmer than I was.

"Everything will be fine," he whispered. "Three…two…"

Before I could ask what the countdown was, Edward mouthed "one", and Dad knocked at the door. "Bella?"

I shooed Edward away, but he only moved to lurk in the corner, out of view of the door. I opened it, shock and panic dominating my expression. Dad was smiling until he interpreted my expression.

"What's the matter?"

_Damnitdamnitdamit_. I exhaled shakily. I held onto the door, not letting it open enough that Edward would be visible. "I…I can't stay here anymore."

Dad's eyes widened. I didn't let him speak.

"I hate Forks," I said, my voice shaking. "This isn't where I belong."

Dad's face changed from shock to accusation and fury. "Was it that boy? Did Edward do something?"

I cursed under my breath. Dad wasn't taking the bait. He was being rational just when I wanted to pray on his insecurities—yes, it was awful, but true, and exactly my intention. I had to steer him away from that possibility. "He didn't do anything, Dad. It's this place. This _stupid_ place. I hate it."

Dad stepped forward, but I swung the door an inch forward. He paused. He'd lost the fury, the conspiracy theories against Edward; he looked sad. "Bella, we need to talk about this. Can we sit down and calmly—?"

"I can't be calm about this," I argued, letting all my panic and agitation seep into my voice. "Forks is killing me."

Dad looked at me tiredly. 'Teenage drama', that's what he was thinking. He hadn't been exposed to the heightened melodrama like Mom was; he hadn't watched teen TV dramas with me, so he wasn't about to buy that I believed Forks was killing me. The weird thing was, in a way, Forks really was trying to kill me—not that any amount of personification could allow the town to literally kill me, but coming here had painted a big red 'x' on my back.

"I'm leaving," I said. I went to my bed and grabbed the pink duffle bag.

Dad looked back and forth between the bag and my face. It didn't matter how good or bad my acting skills were; there was no denying the evidence. Dad's emotions wavered between panic, worry, and misery. Since he couldn't pick one emotion to feel, he decided to put his foot down. He pointed one hand at me, his form solid and unwavering. His expression hardened, his jaw clenched, which made him seem every inch the image of a strong-willed police chief. He seemed unmovable. But when he spoke his voice cracked. "Isabella Swan, you listen to me. You're not going anywhere. Not tonight. We are going to talk about this."

If this weren't a life or death situation, I might have given him an award. He was stern enough that I felt my feet glue themselves to the floor, but the weakness in his voice made me want to throw the duffle bag in the closet, and then lock the closet, and then let him ground me for at least a month. But I couldn't be the good daughter. I stormed by him and ignored him when he shouted my name again. I took the stairs two at a time and he pursued, hot on my heels.

"I'm going to the airport," I told him. "Alice agreed to drive me."

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"To L.A.," I stammered. "I'll let you know when I get to Mom's."

"Renee isn't in L.A.," he said. "She called earlier. You'd know that if you would take a second to _talk_ this through."

My rubber boots were the closest, but I didn't want to be travelling in rubber boots. Even though it made me slower, I opted for my runners. I tied the laces hurriedly, speed making me forget how so I ended up creating knots with long, loose laces. I didn't care—okay, I did care, and it pissed me off, but I didn't have time to care. I told myself let it be; it worked for The Beatles, so maybe it would work for me.

"She gave me a spare key," I said. "I'll let myself in."

I reached for the door. The only thing left to say was goodbye—_for now_, I hoped.

I heard a shout from outside. Panic seized me. My hand drew away from the door. Edward, in a quarter of a second, appeared, scooped me up and ran to the back door. Without dropping me, he opened the backdoor, carried me through, and he'd jumped over the backyard fence before I could blink. It was so fast; I hadn't even realized what had happened until I heard Edward speak.

"Change of plans," he muttered to me. "Sorry."

He threw me into the back seat of the car. I scrambled up to the backseat window, hands pressed against the glass, watching my open front door, seeing Dad lying on the ground. Jasper was inside my house too, and opposite him was James. Alice blocked the doorway. At once I saw three things happen: James disappeared into the house, Alice looked over her shoulder at us, and something crashed through the rear window. I felt fingers grasp my hair and the hand that had broken through the window tugged me backward. Alice zipped to the back of the car, which was enough to scare Victoria—the one that had grabbed my hair—and chased her away. In the same second that Alice scared Victoria away, Edward brought the engine to life, hurtling us forward, enough for the tires to screech against the pavement and probably burnt marks onto the road when we turned. The doors were locked, but I tried them anyway. Dad had been lying on the ground and we'd left. I'd left him there.

I slammed my fist against the glass. It hurt. A lot. I regretted it, but mostly because I wished I could've smashed it. I wanted to break something. I was furious. I was miserable. I held my sore hand and let out one sob. The whole reason I'd come to the house was because I'd wanted to avoid putting Dad in danger. How could I be so _stupid_?

"James," I said under my breath, cursing him in my mind every way I knew how. I wanted him to leave us alone. I wanted to hurt him for what he'd done.

"Victoria called him," Edward explained. "He was far enough that I couldn't read him, but not far enough…"

"Please tell me…"—a sob escaped my throat, and I had to take a breath—"Could you tell if my dad…"

"He's alive," Edward answered. He stared into the rearview mirror, more concerned with mapping out my emotions than watching the road. He knew the road so well that he took every turn perfectly—albeit speedily—without glancing at the road.

I ran my hand back through my hair and sat back. "How alive is he?"

"Alice will get him to the hospital as soon as she can," he promised.

I frowned and sat forward sharply. "As soon as she can? James and Victoria were chasing after me, not Jasper and Alice. Unless they can outrun a car—"

"They could."

My nose pinched. I was not in the mood for interruptions. "What?"

"Outrun a car," he clarified. "Alice and Jasper had to make sure they didn't follow us to closely, but I'm sure she's already called for an ambulance."

I pressed my palms over my eyes. "This is too much."

"Put your seatbelt on, Bella."

My arms dropped to my sides. I glared at him. "That's what you're concerned about? Getting in a car crash? We're running away from a vampire couple that wants to kill me and hurt my dad"—the sob slipped out again, and I cursed at myself. Unprepared for the turn Edward took, my body slid across the seat. I grabbed the seatbelt and buckled. "Never mind. You're right. You're driving way to fast."

Edward's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Already he'd driven us to the edge of town. I hadn't noticed any traffic, but I hadn't exactly been paying attention. My eyes saw only the image of Dad on the ground, Jasper facing off against James, and Alice's last glance at us. I had a feeling I'd be seeing only that for a long time. Unless something even more horrible happened, it was certain to scar me for life.

"Why me," I mumbled.

"This isn't your fault, Bella," Edward said in a stern voice. "This is because of me. Don't blame yourself."

"It was my idea," I whispered. "Maybe if I hadn't—"

"It doesn't matter anymore," he interrupted sharply. "What happened _happened_. Charlie will be fine. He was only knocked out. He'll recover. But I promise you, when I get my hands on James—"

"Stop, please," I begged. My eyes were watering and my arms were shaking. "I can't think about this anymore. I'll just end up bawling my eyes out. Let's talk about something else. Like, what the hell is supposed to happen now."

His eyes pulled away from the rearview mirror. His hands shifted around the wheel. We were officially out of Forks now, and the road curved, leading to the highway.

"Do you know if Jasper and Alice will be okay?" I asked in a small voice.

He nodded.

"That's good." I wiped a tear from my cheek.

"Once we're on the highway I'll call," he said. "They need to know things have changed."

I bobbed my head a few times, shallow bobs; my heart wasn't in it. My chin and bottom lip quivered. I wiped another tear away and then crossed my arms. I wasn't the only one suffering. Alice and Jasper had put their lives on the line to help me. Jasper had probably tried to make sure James didn't hurt my dad any worse. Edward had to be more worried about them than he'd let on. Jess was right; I _was_ selfish. I had to stop thinking about myself. Edward said dad was knocked out. People got knocked unconscious all the time, right? In TV shows the knocked-out character gets up later, has a headache, and then moves on. Dad would be fine. He _had_ to be fine. It was the others who were in real danger. They had to fight James and Victoria.

We reached the highway and Edward called Carlisle. Instead of hello, he asked if Alice and Jasper had made it back yet. Edward's grip on the steering wheel loosened. He'd assured me, yet he was just as worried as I was. Edward's way of protecting me was annoying, _exceedingly_ annoying, but in his own selfish, backhanded way, he was always looking out for me. I guess I owed for that, so I chose to forgive him for forcing me to faint earlier. I'd been sure he was going to kidnap me and I'd wake up a million miles away, but he'd respected my wishes and we'd formed a plan. Sure the plan _failed_…but it's the thought that counts.

Then again, things had worked out exactly like he'd wanted. We were driving out of Forks en route to L.A.—or wherever our final destination was—just the two of us. Suddenly I was suspicious. (Or rather, I would've been suspicious if Alice, who could see the future, hadn't been part of the planning.) Edward had some lucky stars above him. He kept getting his way, at least where I was concerned. I wondered if we were falling into a pattern I'd regret or if was just the kind of luck I needed right about now.

I listened to Edward discuss Plan B for a while (they seemed to debate whether Alice and Jasper should meet up with Edward and I so that we could revert to Plan A), then I closed my eyes, leaned my head back, and let Edward's voice become background noise, lulling me to sleep.

It occurred to me then that I didn't have my duffle bag anymore. The pink bag with my old dance studio logo was still in my house, fallen somewhere beside Dad on the floor. Some tired part of my brain hoped that maybe the bag had fallen first and Dad's head had landed on top of it, so that it would cushion his fall. I lost touch with consciousness uneasily, and my last thought was that I would have nothing to wear tomorrow. I wonder if that made me shallow or just really damn tired.

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><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES: Greetings, readers. First, thanks for reading my fanfic. You're the best around! Second, I've decided now is a good time to clarify some things.<p>

I received a marvelous review in regards to the story thus far. Marvelous. I loved it. While the positive parts were nice, the critique got me so excited! The main critique was Esme and Carlisle and the changes I made to them. Thank you. Yes, I agree, the changes have left something to be desired.

The reason I changed Esme was simply because I found her boring. Out of all the vampire characters…why does she do _nothing_? She just exists. Rosalie does stuff. Emmett does…other stuff. There's a reason Jasper stays in the shadows (away from Bella and her human blood), and _yet_ he still contributes (more so in _Eclipse_). Carlisle is significant (mostly because of his history and role as the patriarch of the family). _What the hell does Esme do? _She goes along with stuff. Yay for the supportive wife! Not that there's nothing wrong with that—but it's also dull and I wanted her to do something.

The way I see Esme (at least in my imagination and my version of events) is this: Esme got married to a man who firmly believed in the stereotyped role of women (of that era). Esme was housebound (basically imprisoned) and told her whole life that the greatest thing she could accomplish is bear children and be a good wife—and she couldn't even do that. She lost her child, so she couldn't do what women were supposed to do. She was a failure. She was good for nothing and nothing could ever be expected of her. Thus, she finds no point in living. So she does the whole _It's A Wonderful Life_ thing with Carlisle as a substitute for Clarence. Esme has a new lease on life (as a vampire) and so what can she do? Well, thanks to Carlisle and his love for her, she realizes she can do anything she bloody wants! So she lives a little. She decides to accomplish things. She's not just limited to a failed housewife life; she's a person. _That's_ my Esme. She's a person who has decided to prove to herself that she can become everything she thought she couldn't.

And my brilliant reviewer points out that this steals from Carlisle's role, making Esme a combination of them both. I totally get that. I've failed somewhere in my attempts to make Esme more interesting to me, and forgot to redefine Carlisle. Thank you.

I plan to make Carlisle more aggressive in my story. "Aggressive? But he's a pacifist!" you say. Yes, but like I've changed Esme to fit into a modern world, so to I want Carlisle to be effected by all that takes place in his new world. Bella's introduction into their world changes not only Edward drastically, but it causes some pretty extreme events (the Volturi, the werewolves, the immortal child issue). In Stephenie Meyer's novels, Carlisle strives to find ways of peacefully solving everything, and as the stakes rise it becomes harder to find such a solution. Which is a great struggle for Carlisle. Swell. I want to look at it from a different angle: if Carlisle were to cave in under the pressure of these raised stakes. So my Carlisle doesn't have too much to do in Part 1 (alas, my bad), and I've made him content with a temporary life of scholarly pursuit. It's boring, so you're right, Reviewer. I have failed in making him exciting. However, when I tackle New Moon (yes readers I pray you stick with me because I'm planning to do New Moon as well) Carlisle will have much, _much_ more to do.

Last Note: Charlie getting knocked unconscious. In case y'all aren't clear about that, getting knocked unconscious in real life is very different from what happens on TV. So…yeah, Charlie will not be waking up in an hour ready to run a marathon or something.

Thanks for reading! REVIEWS! I LOVE REVIEWS!


	21. Chapter 20: Impatience

_20. IMPATIENCE_

Edward drove through the night and he didn't stop until dusk of the following day. I slept through most of it, maybe because of the stress or maybe because I was avoiding talking about what came next—especially when Edward couldn't give me answers I wanted.

I remember we stopped once, because Edward insisted that I have something to eat. Considering we were on the run, I convinced Edward that fast food wouldn't kill me, and honestly there was something about greasy food that helped bite down my stress levels. Charlie's hamburgers may have been all-beef, but A & W served theirs saturated in…well, I'd never worked in the fast food business, but whatever unholy combination of fats, oils, and grease they used, it sure worked. Plus, I was a sucker for A & W root beer. I remembered Dad had a soft spot for root beer floats and I felt a little guilty and worried not knowing if he'd have the chance to have one again. I was probably just being a worrywart. Carlisle had called sometime around noon, when I was mindlessly chewing on fries—pacing myself at about a fry per minute, making the process particularly mindless—he'd said my dad was fine. Dad had woken up, but they were keeping him in hospital for observation. I tried not to let that whole observation thing get to me. It was just a precaution. The important thing was he was alive.

Edward must have tried to start a dozen conversations but my one-word answers stifled every attempt. It wasn't that I was trying to kill all conversation; I just didn't have any words. My mind concentrated on not trying not to worry, and that took up all of my concentration. I kept coming back to how stupid my plan was and how it was all my fault Edward's family and my dad were in danger. I'd always been a klutz. No big surprise there, but why right then? Maybe all this dangerous stuff—meeting vampires—it was some stupid fate, straight out of a Greek tragedy. Some tragic prophecy of my dangerous destiny was out there, seen by some oracle, and I'd just hadn't heard about it yet. Even with Edward trying to draw me out of my increasingly depressing thoughts, I kept coming back to that feeling. So much for being optimistic.

We were in L.A. by dusk. Edward found a hotel that wasn't too flashy, but not so off the beaten path that I'd be put in danger—and God knows I didn't need anymore danger—and also for the sake of comfort. We were leaving in the morning, so he thought it wasn't too big of a risk. Carlisle and the rest of the Cullens were watched Victoria and James carefully. Alice was monitoring them nonstop. From what Edward had explained, though vampires didn't need sleep, Alice was exhausting herself. Apparently that meant she needed more blood and, if painkillers worked on vampires she'd have swallowed a pint of them—unfortunately she had to bear an unyielding migraine instead. My guilt levels steadily increased. I'd put their whole family in danger and protecting me—and them—was causing Alice pain. Was there nothing I could do? I felt so helpless.

It felt so good to stretch my legs, and even better to lie down on a bed—even a hotel mattress—that I didn't consider the close quarters Edward and I would be sharing until after I'd settled into the room. It wasn't necessarily the closeness that concerned me, or the one bed thing (again, vampire didn't sleep, so he had no excuse to test those waters). It was that we were so far away from half the reasons that had kept me safe before. His family wasn't around as a reminder that if he suddenly gave into his bloodlust he would displace his family. The people that knew we were together, they were in Forks, miles away. There was no face but mine that reminded him that he couldn't let himself get too thirsty or get too close that he couldn't control himself. Another problem was that we were in close quarters in a city—that severely lessened the amount of wild animals he could feed on and honestly I wouldn't be too comfortable hearing if he fed on someone's beloved pet. That meant he had nothing close by to satisfy his thirst if he got too good a whiff of my delicious scent. Plus he was guarding me, terrified to give me any space at all in case James snuck in through the window or something, so he was trapped at my side. How long could we go on like that? I understood that Edward didn't plan on staying in the room longer than the one night—which hopefully meant my scent wouldn't cling to the room too much for him to bear—and having the windows down in the car hadn't helped keep my scent clear of him (and he'd been holding his breath the whole time).

I was afraid to ask, in case the answer was bad, so I asked the cowardly way, by not being specific. I sat up on the bed and traced over Edward's stiff figure. He was so tense and he watched me unflinchingly. He didn't move or even blink to give any sign he'd noticed me looking at him. At first I'd wondered if maybe he was staring into space, or was preoccupied by thoughts, but he spoke, sending a chill up my spine. Edward was the farthest thing from human sometimes; reminders like that always spooked me.

"If you're tired you can sleep," he said evenly. "You're safe here."

I knew the reason he had to say such on obvious thing out loud wasn't because he was only worried about James or Victoria. He'd been thinking the same thing as me. I shifted closer to the end of the bed, closer to him, and crossed my legs. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice low.

He blinked. "I'm fine."

I combed my hand back through my hair and looked out the window. It was impossible to maintain an unwavering gaze like he did, and trying to compete only awakened the instincts in me that told me being this close to a vampire was a bad idea. "I've slept enough," I whispered. "I'm not tired."

"You _are_ tired," he insisted. "I can see it."

I rolled my eyes. Sure my eyes were tired and dry and probably had a zillion little red lines scraping across the white, but I refused to be tired. If Edward had to sit and guard me, then I would be on guard duty too. I'd been so tried during the day that I'd left him alone, and that wasn't fair. He had so much more to lose than I did. For all the guilt I felt, it didn't lessen the intensity of his gaze. I wouldn't leave him to worry by himself well I achieved peace of mind through the human ritual of sleep. We'd make it through the night together.

"It's weird, but I'd gotten used to the stars," I said with a small smile. "You can see the whole sky in Forks—except when it rains, of course." I laughed uneasily. It was painfully obvious I was trying to distract Edward with conversation. "I've always been such a city girl—probably because that's how Renee likes it—I didn't realize that maybe I'm not such a city girl after all." I leaned back, arms behind me for support, still watching the small strip of sky over the head of the building across the street. "I've learned a lot in Forks."

"Do you prefer it?" Edward asked.

My eyes followed his voice. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to me. If I leaned forward and reached for him I could touch him, but he sat on the edge to keep some distance between us. That worried me.

Edward leaned forward, hands folded and forearms on his knees. "Do you prefer living in Forks?" he asked. "After all that's happened?"

I straightened and watched his body tense again. "I do," I said. "I don't know when it happened, but at some point I lost the me that would've said the opposite was true. I've changed, I think. Or maybe I've always been this way but didn't realize it. Whatever. I'm too tired for deep thinking."

He twisted to look over his shoulder at me. He smiled slightly. "I told you so."

My eyes widened. I blinked and my mouth popped open.

"You're tried," he reminded me. "And I can see it."

I scrunched my nose and smirked. "Congratulations. You're so clever."

His smile widened, and then he seemed to remember everything at once, and he faced away from me again. "We will be travelling again tomorrow. You'll need to rest."

"I'll rest later," I said, slight irritation in my tone. It was because I was actually a little tried, and I hated being told what to do. That was the _last_ thing I wanted right now. "I'll sleep when you sleep."

Edward straightened sharply. "That's ridiculous, Bella."

I shrugged. "Then stop _insisting_ I sleep and I won't be ridiculous."

He twisted his body to face me again. "Why are you being so _insistent_ that you _won't_ sleep?"

I frowned. "You said that you're fine. You lied."

His brow furrowed. He held my gaze for a minute, thoughts of what to say clearly moving through his head, but he made no excuses. He drew his legs up, moving closer to me and he crossed his legs too, situating himself beside me. "I don't want to worry you more—not more than you already have."

"Don't worry about worrying me," I told him in a low voice, shifting to face him better. "You worry about worrying me. I worry about worrying you. It's a vicious circle. It's better if we only worry about what we have to, right? So stop worrying about me. I'm safe. I'm fine."

Edward's eyes tilted down to his hands, once again folded on his lap. "For now."

I put my hand over his hands. "With me out of the way, it shouldn't be that hard to take care of James and Victoria, right? That's six versus two. Those are good odds, aren't they?"

"From what Alice has seen," he admitted, "I doubt James and Victoria will be too challenging, even with James' unusual talent. I'm not saying it will be seamless, but possible. The problem now is catching them. Victoria has a talent for escaping, and there is only so much Alice can predict with a talent like that working against all our plans."

I drew in breath and held it. Alice could see what was going to happen, and yet Victoria still managed to find a way to get away. That sounded risky. "Are they in danger?"

Edward shook his head once. "Victoria's talent doesn't seem to pose a risk for my family getting hurt. It only means this will take longer than we thought. It will take meticulous planning." Edward's eyes turned up to the left. "It would be easier if I had stayed."

My eyes narrowed and my brow pulled together. "How would you being there help?"

"If I was there I could read Victoria's thoughts and James', to anticipate her route quicker," Edward said. "Alice can see the changes in their futures from anywhere. I can't do much good from this far away." He hung his head. "I was too rash. I could only think of getting you to safety in the moment, rather than what might be better for all of us."

Without realizing, my hand drew back an inch, paused in the air. I'd moved away from him. A second later, Edward had taken my hand and brought it to his cheek.

"I never understood before what it meant," he whispered. "Love is blind."

"What does it mean?" I asked.

He smirked and met my eyes. "I can't see clearly, not when it's you," he said. "I make choices to be near you, instead of choosing what's best. I promise I used to be more rational. My decisions, of late, have been very short-sighted."

A small laugh spread my lips. "You can't see the future, Edward. It's okay to make a short-sighted decision every once in a while, you know."

Edward's eyes lightened, the worry pushed back in his mind, and we shared a smile for a long moment. Edward moved forward, very slowly, eyes tracing down from my eyes to my lips. His kissed me once, softly, and then drew back. "Thank you."

I felt a small tingle in my stomach and my cheeks were surely rosy. "Thank you," I said quietly.

"You're much more resilient than I give you credit for," he complimented. "You've been forced to face so much, and yet here you are, with me, and…still able to smile. You're very brave, Bella."

"Exactly why you shouldn't worry so much." I perked a brow.

Edward laughed and then kissed my forehead.

I yawned. Edward grinned, his eyes teasing me without words. I blushed. Despite my insistence, my body was working against me.

"I am _not_ sleeping," I said, narrowing my eyes.

"I didn't say anything," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

I rolled my eyes. "No, not in words. But I can see it in your eyes."

He pressed his lips together, resisting laughter—and probably the urge to let out 'I told you so'. He slipped off the bed using his vampire speed, and was on my opposite side in half a second. "Why not humour me a little, and just rest. If you fall asleep, then so be it. If not, then…you can hold it over me forever."

I rolled my eyes, but my smiled had returned. It was a fair bargain, and Edward was in a good mood, so I figured it was safe to let myself relax a little. "Why not. I'll humour you. If you humour me too." I shifted back and then propped up the pillows behind me.

"And what do you want me to do exactly?" The good mood had shadowed over, still present, but behind a shade of something eager and uncontrolled.

"Relax with me," I said. I hoped I wasn't being too vague because I definitely didn't want Edward too relax _too_ much—he was still a vampire trapped in a small room with a delicious blood-bag—but I knew we both needed something to distract us from the worry, and keep us from going crazy. Based on my own feelings, and that unblinking stare he'd been giving me earlier, it was an immediate, pressing need.

Edward eyed me for a moment. First his expression held a measure of surprise, and then, gradually, hunger replaced it. He eyed me with renewed want. He stepped forward, and then paused. He met my eyes and a question lingered in his eyes. He wanted rules, boundaries; he needed me to tell him how far he was allowed to go. He was beside me in the time it took me to blink, wearing the same expression. His fingers traced over my cheek, moving back through my hair, down across the back of my neck. His face neared and I closed my eyes. He kissed my lips, once soft and small, and then again. I felt his breath on my neck. I heard him breathe in. My hand found his side and his arms found my waist—and then he was gone. I opened my eyes to find him across the room, hands gripping the window tightly, a small crack in the frame. His body was hunched and tight. He'd needed fresh air. As much as he'd gotten used to my scent, it was new being in a confined space with my mouth-watering scent for over twenty-four hours. The alarm clock beside me read that it was 11 o'clock, an hour until midnight. He really had been locked up with my scent for over a whole day, and I'd even riled him up a little…he was doing better than I gave him credit for.

"Will you…be alright…?" I hated to ask. I didn't really want to know the truth; there was only one answer that wasn't dangerous.

He drew his head back into the room. "I'm fine," he promised. "But I can't…"—his eyes tightened—"I won't hurt you, Bella."

I let my head fall back onto the pillows. Whenever he said it out loud, it was a way of reassuring himself that he had the strength to resist—he said it because he was afraid he would, someday. It didn't make me feel better, and it never would, not when he couldn't say it and mean it—not completely.

"I'm not worried," I lied.

Edward exhaled heavily. He crossed the room to the other side of the bed. He stood beside it and examined it, trying to guess at how risky it was to get close to me again. I rolled my head to the side, watched him deliberate silently, and waited until his eyes found mine.

"Have you ever tried to sleep?" I asked, an awkward attempt to bring back the good mood by starting a low-stakes conversation. "Since you became a vampire."

The corners of Edward's lips quirked upward before he managed to resist and his lips became a line again. "Once."

"What happened?"

His resistance proved futile. He smiled. "Nothing. I stayed awake."

"Huh." I rolled my head again and turned my eyes to the ceiling. There was a strange spot above my head. The shape reminded me a lot of a cat, except with a snub tail, like a lynx.

I felt Edward's weight fall onto the bed. He lay beside me. I watched the ceiling stain for a few more seconds, and then my eyes wandered to the alarm clock to my right. I watched it change as a minute passed. There was half an hour until midnight. I tossed one of the pillows from under my neck onto the floor—as two made my neck ache—and rolled onto my side to face Edward. As expected, he was watching me.

"You told me it wasn't the first time you'd lived in Forks," I remembered. "How many times have you lived there before?"

"Two times before this," he said.

"So you…do you consider Forks your home?" I wondered.

His eyes turned away a moment. "I…would. It is certainly a place my family has felt most comfortable. There are very few places we've lived in more than once, and other than Forks, I don't believe there's another place I would consider coming back to." He met my eyes again. "Why?"

I shrugged my right shoulder, the shoulder that wasn't pressed into the mattress. "We've both lived in a lot of places and we've both been pulled to Forks a few times in our lives. Mind you, my Dad lives there whereas you've come back with decades in between your visits…but I was just curious."

"About where I consider my home to be?"

"Sure, I guess." I frowned. "And maybe…I'm wondering if Forks is special, or if…maybe it's a coincidence."

Edward rolled onto his side and propped his head up with his palm, elbow pressed into the mattress. He'd ditched his second pillow too. "We've only been gone a day," he said. His eyes narrowed. "Do you miss Forks already?"

My eyes fell a moment, considering his question. I hadn't felt homesick before—was that was this feeling was? We'd only been out of Forks a day, and I'd slept most of it. No, the things I felt had to do with the two dangerous vampires hunting me and threatening the vampires I'd come to like. That didn't change the fact that I now knew, now that I'd had to leave, that for once I had a place I didn't want to leave.

"Bella?"

I hadn't realized I'd been so focused on my thoughts that I hadn't spoken for a few minutes. I smiled apologetically and inhaled deeply. "Sorry."

"You're worrying again," he observed. His brow furrowed, and then his expression calmed. "Leaving Forks concerns you. I didn't think it would be this difficult for you."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not that…" I fell onto my back and crossed my arms above my head. "But…I've never left a place before and _looked back_. I've never been sad about leaving a place before. I've had regrets about moving around so much with Mom but it wasn't so much the place we were leaving. It was because I had to start over again. I've never had permission to settle somewhere before. In Forks, I have Dad. And then I met you…" My head rose and I nodded once at him and then let my head drop down. "I don't think homesickness has anything to do with what's worrying me. Like you said, it's only been a day."

Edward reached over and his fingers moved a loose strand of my hair from my face. "You're worried about my family. And about Charlie."

"And anyone else those two might hurt to get at me," I added. "Who knows what James will do if he wants to kill me bad enough. He already broke into my house and hurt my dad."

"But you will miss Forks," Edward said, "If we're away for long."

I pressed my lips together. I didn't want to think about how long I'd be gone. I wanted James and Victoria gone, but some naïve part of me thought it might take a week, maybe a few weeks. The human in me made that amount of time seem very patient and realistic. In an immortal's world, I was much too impatient; the time I thought was long was a blink for a vampire. How long would I be away from the place I was trying to make into my very first home?

I exhaled sharply. "I'm not looking forward to it," I admitted, "being homesick."

He chuckled. He'd moved closer, less afraid he'd be tempted by my scent, so long as he stayed in control.

"At least I have you," I said. I turned my head to the side.

Edward's face, a few inches from mine, didn't look even slightly pleased at the notion. He frowned. His brow furrowed. He was worried that he wasn't safe enough for me. "If you want me to stay…"

"Of course I want you to stay," I argued, seeing the look in his eyes.

"If I stay, then it can't be like this," he said.

"Like what? You mean in a shabby, cramped hotel room?" I perked a brow and grinned. "In that case, I agree."

"I supposed a bigger space would help," he agreed. His eyes wandered the room, not entirely convinced that spacing was the main issue. His body stilled and only his eyes moved, searching my face for some sign I understood. "If I were to hurt you, I would never forgive myself. If I didn't do something worse…"

"Then _don't_ do something worse," I said quickly. "We'll go somewhere with more fresh air."

"I don't just mean right now, Bella," he said, his tone harder, deep and uncompromising. His eyes were guarded. "Your blood…it's sweet scent, rich and deep…indescribable…"—he was hovering over me in a blink—"Being around you more, it makes it easier to bear, but that doesn't mean I forget. Too often there's a moment when I can almost taste it through your skin." His leaned closer, his lips so close to my neck. He breathed in shakily. "I've been able to remind myself how much I love you in those moments, but…"—his hand traced across my clavicle and then touched the base of my neck—"I'm afraid that there might come a day I forget for too long…one day where all the conditions work against us…maybe a time when I haven't fed recently enough…if things get too heated between us…if I lose control for one second too long…" He shot back and sat up beside me. "Your mortality makes this dangerous."

It only took my mind a second to process his suggestion. At first I laid there, completely blank. The moment I realized what he proposed as a solution, I shot up to a seated position with enough speed that even Edward was surprised. My heart thumped hard and heavily in my chest. My limbs tightened; my stomach churned. My whole body felt repulsed. I started to shake my head, to say anything, but I pushed myself back into the pillow and hugged my arms around my legs. I couldn't speak. I turned my head away from him.

"Bella, please, don't think I want to change you," he said.

"You think it's dangerous for me, being human," I murmured weakly, "being around you and human, being around your family and _human_." I exhaled slowly, heavily, and shook my head once. "You want to change me."

"I want to be with you," he said, trying to twist his solution into something gentle. "But living in my world is dangerous. You've _seen_ that."

I faced him again. Lips pursed. Eyes narrowed. Brow furrowed. Nothing he said made the idea of becoming a vampire more appealing. Yes it was dangerous being a mortal dating an immortal. Yet I knew it might only be a matter of time before something happened that couldn't be healed. But through it all I wanted to be me. I didn't want a blood diet. Maybe I was the only person who didn't like the idea of living forever, but that was how I felt. I thought of the night Edward had rescued me in that Port Angeles alley and what he was capable of. I never wanted to be capable of murder.

"I won't ask you to decide anything tonight," he continued. He dropped his gaze down. "I don't mean to force this…possibility…but I hope that you will consider it."

My face tightened with a sudden feeling of frustration and anger. He wanted me to consider it. It was a very fair request. But it irked me. "I'd rather not."

Edward's gaze moved gradually toward me. He took that time to conceal his own feeling of frustration that had slipped through when I first spoke, but transformed into an expression of control—not quite calm though, as it was clear in his eyes he wanted to argue with me. "Why?" he asked. His one word, much too controlled and plain, made it clear that he would have loved to say thousands of reasons why I should agree without hesitation. His one word was a challenge for me to say _one_ reason that could be enough to counter his thousands of reasons.

"I don't want to be a vampire, Edward," I mumbled. The last thing I wanted to do was start an argument. It was difficult to restrain my irritation and speak with a civil tone. "And you won't be changing my mind tonight. So let's not talk about this, okay?"

Edward's eyes tightened. "You won't even consider it."

"I think my dad would notice if my skin wasn't warm anymore and I stopped having meals with him," I argued, feigning a complete lack of enthusiasm. The only way to keep this from becoming an argument was to act calm. "I would stop aging too, and even my mom would notice that someday."

Edward frowned. His eyes flickered over my face, seeing how sincere my answer was. "You would have to say goodbye before they noticed. Everyone human. You'd have to leave them."

My heart squeezed sharply. "That's a pretty good reason to _not_ consider it."

"What about the danger you're in," he countered. "What about Charlie? He's in danger too."

My muscles tensed. My irritation grew. "I didn't ask for this, you know."

"Which is why you should consider all options," he said, "since you are in such an uncomfortable situation."

"Uncomfortable?" I pushed back, the pillow scrunching behind me. I almost said something out of anger, but I inhaled deeply and shook my head. I refused to turn this into a fight. "Edward, we'll figure this out without turning to drastic measures."

"It may be a weighted choice, but I think it deserves—"

"Nothing I've seen has made me like vampires," I interrupted. "Your family—I admit that they seem mostly likeable and aren't nearly as weird as I thought they'd be—but then there are vampires like James and Victoria. They're _exactly_ like vampires in horror stories. I don't want to turn into that."

His eyes widened. "Bella—"

"My mortality won't be changing. I don't want—"

The phone rang—it only barely began the sound, but Edward had the phone pressed to his ear. If it weren't for the fact that every phone call might count, I would've accused him of avoiding my answer, and maybe I would've forced him to listen to me. Edward had been hinting at that frightening _solution_ before the whole James and Victoria mess began. He should've known it was too early to consider such a drastic change. Me? Vampire? That was the last thing I wanted.

Angrily, I ripped back the covers and shoved myself under. I closed my eyes and ignored Edward's muffled whispers. I'd heard him say Alice's name right away, but then his voice had dropped low. I'd ask later. For now, I needed to let my anger dissipate and try not to let Edward's rashness bother me. He'd said before that love was blind, that it made him blind. Maybe this was one of those choices that he hadn't stopped to fully consider yet. I know I hadn't thought much about it either, but I didn't want to think about it now. If ever I was going to consider it, now—when lives were on the line—was not the right time. Big decisions needed to be made with calm, rational minds, after carefully considering all evidence and options. Edward had a point, sure, but so did I! We just needed to survive James and Victoria and then maybe, if I was in a good mood, I'd allow Edward to bring it up again when we returned to Forks—whenever that may be.

After nearly an hour of whispered discussion, Edward's voice started to get louder—loud enough that I could make out some of his words. I heard something about taking me to an island, and then Edward mentioned the coven in Denali, also _vegetarian_ vampires, like the Cullens. Edward hadn't told me too much about them, except that they were like extended family—but guessing from Edward's long sigh, Alice (or whoever was on the other end of the line) had inevitably brought up that it wasn't fair to put them in danger. I heard Edward said something that sounded like he didn't want to leave me, and then he sighed again, this time, though more aggravated, he sounded resolved. He was silent for a long, excruciating minute. My ears were strained trying to hear a clue of what decision had been made. I threw down the covers and sat up just as Edward reached toward me and offered the phone.

"Alice wishes to say hello," he said with a clipped tone.

Hesitantly, I took the receiver. Edward wasn't looking at me. He was clearly upset. I couldn't tell if it was because of his conversation with Alice or if what we'd discussed prior to the call was weighing on him. I touched the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Bella!" Alice cheered loudly. "Good news! You'll be seeing me tomorrow! Don't worry; I'm not driving while talking on the phone. Jasper is driving. Currently."

"I wasn't worried," I said. I doubted Alice would have any trouble with her talents allowing her to see any potential collisions miles away. "I'm sure you're perfectly capable of driving and talking."

"I'm glad you have such faith in me," Alice laughed, "because Jasper and I are taking over the watch."

"You and Jasper—"

"We're your new babysitters!"

I tried to catch Edward's eye, but he'd moved to the window. He stood there, arms crossed, and as tense and solid as a rock. Alice had probably told him this was the best choice. Even though he didn't like it, he was resigned to listen to his psychic sister.

"Edward's going back to Forks," I assumed.

Alice was quiet for half a second, and when she spoke again her voice was serious. "This is the way it has to be. If he stays with you much longer…"—she exhaled sharply—"Bella, I'm so sorry. It's too much too soon for him. We can't risk it. I've seen…that it won't end well. Do you understand?"

I closed my eyes and swallowed a lump in my throat. "I understand," I whispered, my voice so quiet only a vampire could've heard it. I opened my eyes in time to catch Edward turning to face the window again. His shoulders slumped. He hated to admit it, but he was ready to be alone with me for so long. He didn't trust himself. Now that Alice had seen it, seen exactly how horrible it could—and _would_—get, he had to put some space between us.

"James knows that Edward wants to keep you close," Alice reasoned. "This will work to our advantage. He'll be thrown off."

I knew this wasn't the main reason; it was just a side effect. I swallowed again and tried to put strength into my voice. "I hope so."

"Charlie was released half an hour ago," Alice said. Her tone was warm and genuinely optimistic. "When he first woke up, he forgot you'd gone and said he had to call you before you got worried. His memory is still fuzzy, but now he remembers you took off. He thinks he must've tripped or something. He didn't see James. That's all we know for now."

Relief spread through my body, relaxing every muscle. I felt a smile come easily. It was the first good news, and it was enough.

"He could only remember that the Cullens had something to do with it, so Esme told him that I went with you," Alice said. "Edward, Jasper and I tagged along because we thought you seemed stressed and needed some time away. Esme lied and said she was very upset that you hadn't told him that we were going with you, and she pretended to be upset because she thought we'd gotten Charlie's permission. It's become a rebellious teenage melodrama that Charlie will easily be able to understand."

Again, I was relieved. It was amusing to hear how they'd made what was supposed to be a terrorizing event about me running away (from two vampires) into four teenagers skipping town for a weekend. It sounded…normal, rebellious, but definitely normal. "I'll definitely be grounded," I said, "but at least Charlie will understand. I think."

"Esme told him that she'd spoken with you over the phone and asked you to call him," Alice continued. "We're worried about James tracking you down via phone—he's abnormally tech savvy for such a wild man—he was even at the school going through records—he's bold. So you're _not_ going to phone Charlie. So far we're leading with 'Bella is too angry and rebellious right not, so she's not going to call yet'."

I frowned. "I don't think that will hold Charlie off for long."

"All the more reason to fix this lickety-split," she agreed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it," I said, not knowing if it was a lie or the truth. As much as I liked Alice, she herself had called herself my _babysitter_. I didn't like how fragile I was, and liked it being pointed out even less. Not that becoming less fragile, as Edward suggested, would make me any happier. I wanted to fit in as I was. Usually Alice made me feel content about being mortal; I was a nice contrast next to her.

"Oh, one more thing, Bella," she spoke. Her voice dropped. "Ask Edward to leave the room a moment, please."

My eyebrows pinched together. I looked at Edward. He turned slowly, his expression the same as mine: confused, yet curious. He'd been listening.

"Edward," I said. "Alice wants—"

"I heard," he said without waiting for the request. His fists clenched. His chest swelled with air. He stared at the phone with a great amount of malice. In the end, he just shook his head and headed for the door. "I'll walk to the elevators and back. That's all the time she has. If I hear anything because she takes too long, that's on her."

"Edward said you don't have long," I warned her.

Edward slipped out the door. I heard the door click, a few seconds passed, and then Alice spoke.

"When the phone rings tomorrow morning," Alice said, "Edward will be out. Answer the phone, Bella."

I laughed. "_That's_ what Edward couldn't hear?"

"Remember when I said I don't just see stuff, but I feel it too?" she asked.

For a second, I couldn't speak. I nodded, but I knew she couldn't see it. I cleared my throat, but she didn't wait.

"The things I see are almost always changeable," she explained. "Sometimes I get a feeling about something…too strong to ignore, and…Bella, there's never been a time I've been able to change it, when I get a feeling like this. I think it's"—she paused—"…fate. Whether you believe in fate or not, I know that some things are meant to be. You meeting Edward, for example."

"And this phone call tomorrow?" I questioned. "This is fate too? Who's phoning? My dad? You?"

"Don't tell Edward," she said. "That's all I know."

I wanted to throw a million questions at her, but a chill came over me, and I had a strange feeling that maybe I did believe in fate. I knew Alice wasn't wrong. I knew when it came to the future Alice was the authority. It was impossible to question that. My only concern was whether this fate would be something good. The shivers up my spine argued otherwise.

"Alice, do you like being a vampire?" I asked, in an attempt to shove away the other questions that bothered me about my future.

"It's all I've ever known," she countered. "I have no memory of being human, so I have nothing to compare it to. This has always been my life. And I'm very happy."

I sighed. I knew I'd asked the wrong person. If Rosalie didn't scare the beejeebies out of me, I would've asked her.

The door clicked open and Edward walked in. He didn't announce himself or pause when he entered the room. He immediately went for the phone and scooped it out of my hand. "You've had enough time," he said. "Now I'm going to make Bella explain why this secret of yours is so important." He hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye. He was upset, but he'd still allowed Alice to keep a secret from him. It was amazing how much trust he had that her ability had to be honoured.

"I'm not going to tell you, Edward," I warned him. "Alice was very—"

"Was it about what will happen if I stay with you?" he questioned. "Or was it something else?"

I was stunned. Honestly, I didn't know how to answer. Alice had been vague. I couldn't even give him a _vague_ answer because I didn't _know_ the truth. I could say one thing, trying to reassure him, and it might turn out to be a lie.

Edward eyes narrowed. "Was it about something she saw or something she sensed?"

"The latter," I said quickly, jumping at the chance to prove that I did want to be honest, I just couldn't. "She said it was important that you didn't know, Edward."

"So you won't tell me." His whole frame was rigid. He wanted me to tell him, to ignore Alice's warnings. He wouldn't ask me to, but he wanted to.

I shook my head. He exhaled slowly, heavily. He moved to the window again. "Fine," he allowed. "I'll find out the truth someday."

I stared back at the phone. Alice had given me relief that my dad was okay and then she'd given me an ominous prediction about a call for me. If being a vampire meant I got some whacky gift that gave such mixed results, I had even more reason to not become a vampire. Edward could read minds, but he also couldn't stay out of anyone's head. The only break he got was me; even that blessing was a curse to him, since he couldn't read me so easily, which I knew annoyed him at times. Jasper could feel people's emotions and alter them, but unfortunately feeling what others are feeling could be overwhelming and exhausting. Not that I expected I would be that special—after all, Rosalie only got super beauty and Emmett had even more vampire strength—but still, it was a risk. I preferred being normal. I had enough skills and deficiencies with being merely human; I didn't need super skills and super deficiencies.

I pulled up the covers again and stared up at the ceiling. If I stared at the phone any longer, Edward would've been suspicious. Instead I lay awake for another hour, wondering who would call me and what it meant. Alice hadn't sounded joyful about it, but I wasn't very good at understanding her sometimes. Maybe it was because the call was so important that she'd sounded so serious. Maybe I needed to take the call because it was the only future in which they'd easily defeat James and Victoria. I hoped desperately that I wouldn't mess up Alice's plans. I had to do exactly as she said if there was any hope of ending this. I truly believed that, so that's what I would do.

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTES:<p>

Thanks for reading my story! Review, please! 


	22. Chapter 21: Phone Call

_21. PHONE CALL_

I woke up with the sun. I had tried to stay up with Edward, but after Alice's phone call it was difficult to engage him in conversation. He barely gave my questions one-word answers; sometimes he only nodded or even refused to look at me. I eventually coaxed him to lie with me, his arm around me, but that didn't last long. His irises were darkening; it was a sure sign he was feeling hungrier. Edward admitted had once admitted that he could often resist humans even when he hadn't fed for a few days, even a few weeks—but when it came to me, even a few days could be a struggle. Edward couldn't risk staying so close to me now that his hunger had started to show, and that was why I wasn't surprised to find myself alone in the hotel room when the sun rose.

Edward had left a note on the bedside table explaining he'd gone out to find something to eat. For both of us, he'd written. My mind went instantly to some poor tabby cat or loose Pomeranian on the streets unlucky enough to cross Edward's path.

The few hours of sleep I'd had—and although sunrise was later, now that winter was just around the corner, I'd kept myself awake until 3 AM so I'd had less than five hours—left me wanting. It wasn't so much a decision as a reaction, my eyes closed and I had every intention of falling fast asleep. My mind began to quiet again and my body felt heavier, dense and still. I was almost sleeping when the phone rang. My body startled, but I didn't reach for the sound. I wanted to ignore it. I almost did, except for Alice's phone call at midnight. I remembered it and my whole body darted up, throwing aside the covers and hand scrambling for the phone.

"Hello?" My voice was hoarse and half-asleep, much like my mind was.

"Bella?"

My mind woke up fully then. My body was on fully alert, warming as my stomach tightened. Alice's fateful call was from my mother?

"Mom?" My voice made it a question; I couldn't understand how she'd got the hotel's number.

"Bella," she said, calmer now. "Charlie got your number from Carlisle."

It seemed strange that Dad would have the number so soon, considering that the Cullens had been trying to hold off on letting me contact him. But maybe Dad had worn them down. I had known he'd be persistent. And maybe it would be less obvious if he called me, rather than a hotel number calling him. Or maybe because Alice and Jasper were planning to take me somewhere else, it didn't matter if Dad or Mom called me at this hotel, because I wouldn't be here long enough for James to come for me. My mind rebelled against all explanations. Something felt wrong, but there was no mistaking my mother's voice.

"He wanted to call you first," she explained, her voice quiet, "but I told him to let me talk to you first."

Despite her somehow having the hotel room number, everything else made sense to me. Whatever was bothering me, I had to ignore it. My instincts were obviously off.

"Your father told me that you left Forks," she said hurriedly. "You worried both of us. Very much." There was something strange about her tone, like she was reading the words rather than speaking them from the heart. Her words sounded rehearsed, but rehearsed well. "Tell me where you are."

"I'm at a hotel," I said. A notepad beside the phone was labeled with the hotel's name, but I had a feeling that if Edward were around he would've advised me to keep it to myself. "I'm with friends, Mom. That's all I'm going to say."

She whispered something, holding the phone away. She was speaking to someone else, repeating what I'd told her. Something wasn't right. I tried to tell myself she was probably just informing Phil, but…I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something frightening about the tone of her voice.

"You need to tell me where you are." Her voice had hitched on the word 'need' and there was panic in her tone.

"I can't, Mom," I said. "I'm not going to tell you. I promise I'm safe and I'll come home as soon as possible, but when I'm ready, okay?"

"Alright, I understand," she said in a rush. "Goodbye."

She said it so quickly, and all in one breath, and then the phone shuffled and I heard her cry out. I heard a man's voice, and then heavy breathing into the phone, almost sobbing.

"Bella?" It was Mom again, but this time the line wasn't rehearsed. A sob escaped her lips. "I'm so sorry."

A second later a new voice spoke, a deeper voice that I didn't recognize. It wasn't Phil's voice. This voice was so ordinary; he could've been a car salesman or a young man in an electronics retail store. His voice was calm and although the tone would be soothing coming from anyone else, my instincts told me to be afraid and my hair stood on end, goosebumps rose along my limbs.

"Bella," he said. "I wish we could have done this without so much fuss, but I am afraid you have managed to make this chase quite challenging."

My heart started to beat faster. Faster. Faster.

"Every time I tried to get close to the town, those Cullens proved themselves quite meddlesome," he said, his tone practically praising. "They have grown attached to you and were doing a brilliant job of keeping me from finding any valuable information that may lead to your whereabouts. However,"—he laughed, a slight sound, so light yet it terrified me—"my Victoria is very good at getting into places she out not to be. She found your mother's address while we were at your father's house."

It suddenly clicked. The reason Edward and Alice hadn't sensed that Victoria had intended to go after me the night we'd left Forks. She _hadn't_ been after _me_. Her goal was to get information out of my dad. While James managed to divert us by creating chaos as we tried to run away, Victoria had probably taken my mother's phone number off the sticky note by the phone, or maybe Dad's address book—or maybe she'd even had time to sneak up to my room. Vampires were so fast; I didn't know how much time she would need to find something so simple.

"While Victoria has been leading your friends on a wild goose chase, I had a relaxing flight," he continued. "I have been chatting with your mother. Her husband, Phil, has been out for a while. Away game, apparently. Your mother stayed back when your father phoned about you running off. How fortunate for me, really. So I asked her to call your father and beg for your location. All she could get was this phone number. I was hoping some convincing from your mother would be enough, but you would be stubborn, wouldn't you? Just my luck, I suppose."

"Leave my mother out of this," I spoke quietly, my throat tight, each word causing pain.

"Too late for that," James said. "However, there is time yet to save her life. Tell me your location and I will let her live. Temporarily. She and I are going together to meet you. After that, her lifespan will depend entirely upon your cooperation."

"Please let her go," I cried. I could hear her voice speaking, somewhere close to the phone, begging for him to let her go, and not to hurt me. My heart squeezed. She was terrified, but I couldn't tell yet how much she knew. Had James shown her what he was? Did she think he was a deranged human or did she know that he was a flesh-and-blood monster?

"Now, Bella, don't try to be difficult," James warned, his voice colder. "Tell me where you are and your mother may live. Keep testing my patience and I will take my frustration out on her. I swear."

My fingers were clenched tightly around the phone. It wasn't even nine o'clock yet. This was not looking like the start of a good day, and it might be my last.

I took a deep breath. It was impossible for me to risk my mother. There was no choice, but that didn't make it any easier. My voice was weak when I finally found the courage to speak, and my tone was flat. "I'm in L.A."

"How close to the airport are you?"

"Not close," I said quickly, hoping it might be enough to stall him.

"Do you have any means to get to the airport?" he asked.

"No."

"Your mother's life is on the line. Think, Bella."

I looked around the room. I had twenty bucks in my pocket, and if James intended for me to take a flight, that was hardly enough. I didn't even have enough for a taxi to the airport. The only thing I could find in the room was the car key.

I closed my eyes. "I can get to the airport."

"Good," he said. "Now do you remember your childhood dance studio? _Pirouette Dance Studio_."

I remembered my pink dance bag that I'd left behind when we'd dashed from my dad's house. Something told me the bag hadn't cushioned my dad's fall. Instead, James had probably snatched it.

"I remember it," I said.

"Meet me there," he said, "at midnight—no later, no sooner—expect your mother to be dead. Good day." He hung up.

I kept the phone to my ear for a while, unable to move from the shock. 

* * *

><p>AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this is a shorter chapter. Next chapter will be long. And after this one, only 3 more chapters until the end!<p>

Review please!


	23. Chapter 22: Hide-and-Seek

_22. HIDE-AND-SEEK_

It took me a few minutes to remember how to move again, but once I did I moved faster than I thought I could. I searched the drawers quickly for anything Edward must have hidden while I was sleeping. I hoped to find money, but really I was searching more as a precaution, in case there was anything I could use. There was a wine bottle opener, and I considered taking it, but a bottle opener wouldn't be much protection against a vampire. It would be just us effective as my bare hands. In the end I decided to leave it, grabbed the car keys, and shut the hotel door. As quietly as I could, I raced to the parking lot. It took me a minute to remember what the car looked like. There were so many that looked alike in the lot, but Edward's car had that extra glint in the morning's light the proved its value was above any of the vehicles surrounding it. My fingers fumbled with the keys, and once I was inside the car, it took several tried to get the key inside the ignition. I wasn't sure what my driving skills would amount to if I couldn't even get the car to start. I ran my hands through my hair and took a few breaths to steady myself. My fingers gripped the wheel tightly and over and over again I told myself to focus, just drive, and worry about the consequences later. I had to try. Mom needed me.

Without allowing time to talk myself out of it, I started the car and backed out of the parking spot. I wheeled toward the exit. Once the car was in motion, the momentum built, and it was easier to move. My nerves were high, and everything inside me felt stretched and sharp. The exit, and my escape route to the airport, was in view. I smiled. It was easier than I thought it would be.

I spoke too soon. Edward came around the corner and the sight of him made me foot slam onto the brake. Edward had a brown paper bag in his hands. He noticed me in the driver's seat and he met my eyes quizzically. He took in my face, worried, panicked, hands strained around the wheel. It didn't take a genius to realize I'd been running away. If I hesitated a second longer, he would have the door open and he'd drag me back to the room. I wouldn't give him that chance.

My foot stomped on the gas and the car hurtled toward the exit. I didn't look back. I turned the wheel sharply to get onto the road. Only when I was on the road headed away from the hotel did I check behind me. Edward wasn't there. He wasn't chasing behind me. Had I startled him so much than he'd been unable to follow me?

No such luck. I felt the car jerk and the passenger door opened. Edward slid into the seat and he sat with his back rigid. He closed the door and let me drive in silence for a minute.

"Where are we going, Bella?"

"The airport," I shouted. Panic had made my voice instantly loud. I flinched at the tone of my voice. Being aggressive wasn't fair to him.

"Why are we going to the airport?" His voice was so calm, understanding, and patient.

"James called me," I explained. "He has my mother."

His calm ended there. He yanked the wheel from my hands and turned into a deserted alley. "Brake, Bella," he commanded irritably.

He didn't give me much choice, since the alley was ending. My foot gently pressed down the brake and we stopped a foot away from the alley's end. Edward yanked the parking brake into place and drew the key out of the ignition. He shoved the passenger door open and stepped out of the car. He shut the car door, leaving me alone in the keyless car.

Edward paced the length of the car, back and forth. At first his speed was human, but soon it became impossible for my eyes to track him. It made me dizzy. After a minute of that, he stopped suddenly, his back to me; one hand had paused mid-sweep through his hair. He stayed like that for another minute, so completely focused on a single thought. When he'd had time enough to reflect on that single thought, he opened the car door and landed softly on the passenger seat. He shut the door with a slight but definite clack. He jangled the keys in his hands and stared down at them.

"You were going to leave me," he said quietly.

"Yes," I agreed.

His eyes lifted and I studied him cautiously. He was upset, worried for me, but he wasn't angry. He didn't even seem all that surprised, more like he thought it would happen sooner.

"But you were going to leave me anyway," I reminded him. "You were changing posts with Alice and Jasper. I wasn't running _from_ you, Edward." I shifted as best I could in the driver's seat to face him. "I was trying to get to my mom. She needs my help."

Edward leaned his head back, exhaled slowly, deeply, and closed his eyes. "Explain this phone call to me."

"It's the phone call Alice called to warn me about," I told him. "Turns out James managed to figure out about my mom, tracked her down—and she's terrified." My lip started to tremble. Edward's eyes opened.

"James is using your mother to get to you," Edward said. His face was calm, but his voice was coated thickly with rage.

"I have to meet him," I said in a low voice, "or he'll…he'll hurt her, Edward. I _can't_ let that happen."

He sat up and jangled the keys inside his cupped hand. "You shouldn't go alone."

"If I don't go alone, he'll kill her before I can rescue her," I argued. "If he thought for a second he couldn't get at me, he wouldn't need her anymore. I've seen enough movies to know what happens if you don't play along with the villain's evil master plan." I'd seen that even playing along doesn't guarantee everyone goes home happy and healthy either, but it was still better odds to comply. "I'm not going to let him hurt her because of me."

Edward rolled his head and met my eyes. I wasn't backing down on this.

"I'm going to get her," I vowed. "You can't stop me."

Edward straightened and pushed closer. "Yes. I _can._"

My skin crawled. His eyes were lighter than they'd been last night—thanks to the sacrifice of some poor animal wandering the city streets—so that meant he had more control today. He may have fed, but that didn't make his threat any less severe. If he wanted to, he could stop me, easily. He'd caught up to the car, stunned as he was, without breaking a sweat. It was up to him whether or not I was allowed my rescue attempt.

Edward reached for me. His lips came so close to mine. He held me, transfixed, my whole body aching to have him move. My spine still tingled from the fear of his threat, and that part of me wanted him to back away. His fingers brushed downward, following my hair over my shoulder. He drew back. He settled into his own side of the car. I bit my lip, regretting my silent wish for him to pull away. I wanted to draw him back.

Edward turned the key in the ignition. "I love you too much to say no," he said with a sly grin. "But you're not going alone."

Surprise turned me to stone. Excitement slowly revived me and I grinned. For a second I forgot that it was James, who wanted to murder me, that we were planning to meet. Having Edward with me made it all better. Plus with Edward along, I had secured a way to procure a ticket.

"I have to call Alice and explain the change—"

Before he could finish the sentence, his cell rung. We exchanged surprised expressions and Edward held my gaze, eyebrows sharply raised, as he brought the speaker to his ear. First I heard a voice speak, too muffled for me to hear. Second, I saw Edward's expression morph slowly from surprise to relief to frustration and finally back to surprise. He mouthed one word at me that answered everything: 'Alice'.

He pinched his nose at the base of his brow and hung his head. "Sometimes you truly frustrate me," he said to her, "but…"—he laughed—"thank you. For anticipating Bella's response to that phone call—although I do place a lot of blame on you for that—"

His hand dropped and his head rose sharply. Alice was quicker to respond than most to even common statement. I could only imagine the speed and wit of her retort when she and Edward bickered. Alice was by far the strangest of the Cullens. She was a great mystery, not only because of her powers but because she had no memory of her past. Alice was a mystery even to herself. If I were in her shoes I wasn't sure I could be so upbeat all the time. I had a feeling she made up for not having a past by meddling in people's futures. Like mine. She seemed to have her hand in it, every step of the way. Even now she'd called Edward just as her name was mentioned. Spooky. But also useful.

Edward spoke to her a few minutes longer. He paused only once to confirm that I hadn't changed my mind. I hadn't. He told Alice that we would meet them there, then he hung up. My eyes went wide.

"So?" I asked.

He exhaled heavily, smiling almost sarcastically. "Alice has struck again. She knew all along that you would try to go on your own after that phone call."

I frowned. "So she knew all along that my mom would be kidnapped." My hands tightened into fists and my chest tightened. "Why didn't she do anything?"

Edward grasped my hands tightly and he kissed the back of my right hand. "Bella, I will do everything I can to help rescue your mother from James."

It wasn't enough to calm my fears. It wasn't enough to silence my doubts about Alice. She knew everything, didn't she? Why hadn't she tried to change this? Why hadn't she warned me ahead of time?

"She didn't know, Bella," Edward promised in a whisper.

My trembling stopped. My muscles loosened and my mouth drooped open. "But…" I shook my head. "I don't understand."

"She knew there would be an important call," Edward explained, "but she didn't know who would make that call or what would be spoken of. She only knew that something about that call would prompt you to go off alone to find James, and that you would fine him and need us. So when she left Forks, she brought with her both Jasper and Carlisle."

My eyebrows rose high up my forehead. "Carlisle is coming?" I was both comforted and afraid. Carlisle coming meant more reinforcements for my suicide mission, but it also meant that whatever little Alice had seen was enough that she thought Carlisle, the oldest and wisest of their group, was necessary. It made me wonder what James was forcing me to walk in to.

"Hopefully James will be too surprised to pull any tricks we can't handle," Edward said, mostly to himself, but he said it loud enough for me to hear. He seemed worried—somehow more worried than before he knew we had reinforcements. The frustration in his eyes made me wonder if he'd been planning to drag me away, distract me, or otherwise keep me from getting any closer to James whenever I least expected it. Edward would do anything to keep me safe, even if it meant risking my mother, even if it meant I'd be miserable. It was part of the darkness in him. There was little he wouldn't do to keep me close to him, and even less to keep me breathing.

"Alice, Jasper, and Carlisle are on their way to the airport now," Edward said. "We'll meet them there."

"Rosalie, Emmett, and Esme…?" I turned the keys in the ignition and the engine purred to life.

"They stayed behind to track Victoria."

"I'll bet Emmett wasn't happy about that." It may have been sadistic, but it brought a smile to my face to think of Emmett's frustration having been left behind. Or maybe it wasn't his pain that delighted me, but knowing that I was familiar enough with him to know him at all. I hadn't met them face-to-face for a lengthy amount of time; yet I felt I'd known them for so much longer. It was easy to understand why Jasper and Alice would latch onto them after being wanderers together. The Cullens, despite their dead cold skin, were very warm.

* * *

><p>The airport, as expected, was crowded. If I'd been on my own, I'm not sure how I would've found them in the crowd. Edward had vampire-vision though, so he found them after no time at all. He held my hand tightly with one arm wrapped around me, keeping me close to his chest, as he pushed as through the masses of hurrying people, dodging suitcases, and his eyes always locked in the forward position. He walked straight to them. I didn't even know he'd found them until we were standing in front of them. They had no luggage, and Alice was strangely not dressed like her usual self. She wore a loose black shirt with long tight three-quarter length sleeves, black leggings, and black sneakers. Jasper was similarly dressed—a plain black shirt and black jeans. Carlisle wore a grey hoodie and loose pale tan coloured pants. I debated for several minutes inside my head if this was what vampires wore to travel, or if this was what they wore to sneak into another vampire's lair. In the end I decided it was laundry day.<p>

They wasted no time dawdling. No hugs. No 'long time no see'. They moved like this whole event had been choreographed. I was the only one that hadn't shown up for rehearsal, so Edward held my hand and I was dragged behind. Edward led me through the crowd to his family and didn't pause, but kept walking and they followed behind us.

"It's good Edward didn't give you the chance to face James alone," Alice said. The chattering and wheeling noises of the airport crowd though enough to drown out any human voice was made quiet by her steady, cheerful tone. She was the only one not wearing a scowl or looking battle ready. Sometimes I thought Alice was the most wonderful vampire I knew. Not that I wanted to meet anymore to test my theory.

"Maybe," I mumbled. I knew my lowered voice wouldn't stop Edward from hearing it, but I had a tiny hope that maybe his scowling would prove great enough a distraction that he'd ignore me. I was wrong. His fingers tightened around mine.

"Not maybe," he said. "Definitely."

"If James knows I'm not coming alone," I said, looking from Edward to Alice, expecting her face to offer some sympathy, "he'll kill my mom."

"He'll kill your mother regardless," Jasper said. He was a man of few words, so hearing him say it made my joints lock. I paused a step. Jasper's battle-ready expression made me the most worried. Unlike the others who seemed to view this battle hoping to win, his hard eyes seemed to be considering casualties.

"He means if you won't alone you wouldn't be able to save her," Carlisle said. His lips formed a thin smile. He probably felt the same as Jasper, but wanted to break the news to me gently.

I wasn't okay with that. I took a breath. "Okay," I said. "So it was stupid and hopeless to go alone. But with all of you, James will realize he's crazy to try to fight you and we can save my mom."

Alice squeezed my shoulder and matched her pace to mine. She didn't say a word, only smiled. Her attempt to comfort me made it worse. I was terrified that I was the only one who thought we had a chance at saving Mom.

"Bella," Edward said, letting his scowl soften, "I don't know what we can expect…but I promise that James won't escape this time."

The promise didn't make me happy, but Edward was fixated on it. He didn't look at me when he said it. He was deep inside his thoughts, already picturing James' fate. I nodded. Edward was scaring me more than comforting me, but I could remember the face I'd seen when the men in the alley had tried to kill me. Edward was dangerous. I needed him now. I needed that dangerous part of him.

* * *

><p>It was hot in L.A. Maybe it was my fears getting to me, but I felt like melting. On the drive to the dance studio, Edward kept glancing over with worried eyes, probably listening to my racing heart. I'd argued the entire flight with Edward. I wanted to go in alone, try to convince James to let my mom flee and then bring in the cavalry. Edward refused without even letting me finish my sentences. In the car he'd turn to Alice and ask her to tell me how ridiculous I was being. Alice simply shrugged. Jasper said it was ridiculous for a human to go in alone. As much as I liked Alice, her beau wasn't growing on me.<p>

"You can't go in with me," I said, twisting my hand out of Edward's grip.

Edward surrendered my hand. He stared at me unblinkingly. If it were a staring contest he would've won thousand times over. I tried several times to beat him while we drove from the airport to the studio, but the longer I held my gaze with his the less I saw his humanity and the more I felt like a mouse trapped in a cage with a snake. I couldn't overpower him and I couldn't run. I didn't have anything to bargain with. He was getting his way. But I was terrified that him winning meant I'd lose my mom. I knew it was futile to argue with him but I couldn't shake the feeling that if James saw I wasn't alone my mom would be dead before I could blink.

"Bella is right, Edward," Alice said.

She sat in the back with Edward and I, filling out a crossword she'd found on the floor. Jasper had hot-wired an inconspicuous car from the airport parking lot. Well, inconspicuous for the Cullens. It was still more than I could dream of affording. The owner apparently had a fascination with word-puzzles. There were paperback books of crosswords and scrambled letters piled under the seats. He also apparently subscribed to the golf magazine that I'd found in the pocket sewn into the back of the passenger seat where Carlisle sat. I'm assuming it's a he because of the stale car smell. But maybe I was biased in thinking a lady's car would smell more pleasant.

Alice put down her borrowed pen and crossword, stuffing them into the pocket attached to the driver's seat.

"I've seen it go down a dozen different ways," she continued. "Whatever combination or play we make, Renee is dead if any of us go in too soon."

"And how many of those futures does Bella survive if she goes in alone?" Edward demanded sharply.

Alice frowned.

"I can't risk it," Edward said.

"I can," I said through gritted teeth. We'd both said the same lines a hundred times already. It was like throwing pebbles at a brick wall hoping to knock it down.

"The only future where Renee lives is one where Bella enters the dance studio alone," Alice insisted.

"So that's what I'm doing," I said. I crossed my arms and stared at the back of the headrest. I wasn't going to say a single word more until Edward stopped being a complete ass.

"Alice is right," Carlisle said. "We want to save Renee's mother and put an end to James' chase. The only way is to let Bella go in first."

"I've seen Bella survive this," Alice said pleadingly. "I've seen all of us survive this. _If_ we do it my way."

Edward scowled. His head turned away from her and he stared at me a long moment. I refused to meet his eyes. He exhaled sharply.

"We only leave her alone for a minute," Alice said. She clasped her hands together and her lips parted into a grin that showed all her teeth. "Pretty please, Edward!"

Edward slung his head back. "You swear you've seen Bella safe?"

Alice nodded excitedly. I broke my stare and turned to her. She winked at me. Edward watched the ceiling of the car. He now had two women against him. He knew he stood no chance.

"But we must be careful," Alice said. "Precise. Timing is everything."

"You say that as if you would expect anything else from me," Edward said, raising his head and wearing a mock smile. He faced me, and this time I let him catch my eye. He touched my cheek and kissed me. "I won't let him hurt you. Even though you insist on risking your life."

"What is our plan, Alice?" Carlisle asked.

"We'll stand ready, but out of range so James won't know we're close," Alice explained. "Edward will have to listen very very _very _carefully and I'll be watching _very_ very very closely for the moment Bella has her sights on Renee. As soon as Bella knows where Renee is, James will obviously be near enough to see she came alone—or so he'll believe—and he'll be distracted just long enough that we can charge in a save the day!" Alice clapped her hands together.

"We need to kill him immediately," Jasper said. "Don't give him a chance to cast illusions."

The car pulled right and my memory began to draw the path leading from the side street, into the parking lot of the strip mall, and then beside the street light in the centre of the parking lot. It was the spot Mom usually took, because it was usually the closest one available. She'd bring me just on time, sometimes a minute late. Renee was always running late…well, when it came to me. She'd show up late picking me up from school or birthday parties. She dropped me off late to ballet class. When she offered me a ride to school on her days off I'd refuse, knowing it was more reliable to take the bus. But I was always grateful that she had offered. She was never reliable, but Mom had wanted to be. I regretted being angry with her for exiling me to Forks. Maybe she knew that she wasn't always there when I needed her to be and she'd hoped Dad could be. Maybe she saw Forks as her last chance to make a wise parenting choice. I'd agreed to go because I'd wanted a chance to have something steady. Dad was steady. He'd been in the same town his entire life. If—no, _when_—I saw Mom again I would apologize for being upset that she didn't ask me about marrying and changing her life without thinking about me. I'd thank her for the chance I had to find some place I could call home for the first time in my life.

Jasper parked the car in the lot over, out of sight of the wide dance studio windows. The curtains were all drawn over the windows, but the fading light made the lights inside peek through. Someone was definitely inside. It was too late for it to be a class. I hoped James had trapped no one else—like a teacher or a janitor. He'd caused enough chaos already.

"Bella?" Alice whispered. "Are you ready?"

I looked from her to Edward. Before I could let on that I would never be ready to face the threat of death, Edward kissed me, much more passionately than I felt comfortable with around his family. Under normal circumstances I might have scolded him for it or maybe apologized to Carlisle for snogging his son in front of him. But instead I kissed him back. I didn't mind the heat colouring my cheeks. I was grateful that when our lips parted I was breathless. I could pretend it was because of the kiss and not because I was afraid of going inside the studio. My palms were already warm and shaking. I opened the car door and stepped into the cool outside air. I tried not to race to the building. I needed to face James calmly. I had to have a clear head if I wanted to be capable of rescuing anyone. With the pressure of Edward's lips still fading, my head felt more blank than clear, but it was a start.

The door with the dance studio's hours was open when I tried it. I was right that it was definitely after hours. The studio closed at nine. I took out my cellphone and checked the time. It wasn't quite midnight yet. Five minutes to go. James had said no sooner or later. I paused with my fingers curled around the handle. I studied the large logo painted on the window to my left. _Pirouette Dance Studio_. Two pointe shoes stood upright on their own. The writing was in a silvery white. It reflected the street lamplight. There was no curtain to hide the waiting room and the front desk. Instead only shadows kept my eyes from making out the details. My memories didn't need the light though. I knew the line of chairs against the right window were grey and weren't comfortable to wait in for more than fie minutes. I knew the stack of magazines on the table in the corner were always outdated by a year or more and had nothing to do with dancing. I knew the flowers in the vase on the front desk were white lilies and they were fake. I knew the mats for shoes would have grains of dirt in the grooves. I remembered the lobby smelling like fresh fabric, soft and warm, and feminine without being floral. The changing room had always been too warm and stuffy, but the lobby had someone been made to smell like costume changes and freshness. It had felt new every time I'd stepped through the front door. The newness had died after class, when I waited for Mom to show, but before class it had, thankfully, been a room that let me dump my disappointment at the door. I looked again at the time. Barely a minute had passed, but I went in anyway.

The same feeling was there, the same fresh smell of new clothing. Instinct took over, and I felt the urge to leave my shoes on the mat. This time when I went down the narrow hall, passed through the change room, and faced the studio doors I wouldn't be having fun. The hall had never made me feel so squished before, but I'd been so young then. I wish it made me feel tall, but my lungs were tight and my palms were clammy. One of the hooks on the changing room wall had a ribbon hung over it. A stray elastic bands and bobby pins were swept under the benches. There were two studios, so there had always been two classes going on at once. Ballet wasn't the only thing the teacher taught, so usually I'd hear faster tempos across the hall while were practiced our positions. I'd never considered jazz or hip-hop because to me—in my naïve child mind—ballet was the prettiest and the truest form of dance. Out of curiosity I'd tried tap, but due to my klutziness and slipping one too many times I'd decided tap was also an inferior dance and gave it up.

Tonight only one of the studios had lights on. I could see the yellow glow through the base of the door. I checked my cellphone one last time. There were three minutes until midnight. I sat on the bench and closed my eyes. I inhaled and exhaled evenly and slowly. I had to save Mom. Edward and his family weren't far. They could save me once I proved to James I'd come alone. They'd save me. Everything would be fine.

I stood, wiped my palms on my jeans and stepped forward. I grabbed the knob, took one last look at the change room, and then opened the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Author: Hello again. I murdered my computer again. And lost stuff. And had to re-write stuff. So that's why I've been gone. Again. I am not pleased with myself. But hey! My computer is alive again and I finally had the time and patience to write more. So here's more! I already have the next chapter written, so expect it soon.<strong>

**As always, thank you THANK YOU for reading and, please, reviews are always welcome.**


	24. Chapter 23: The Angel

_23. THE ANGEL_

It something out of a bad movie. Mom was in the corner of the room sitting on a chair, sideways, with one wrist tied to the chair's wood back. There were dried tear trails on her cheeks and her eyelashes were wet. Her lips were dry and cracked. She wore black yoga pants and a grey tank top and her hair was tied back, dishevelled now, but it had been done with purpose. James had probably grabbed her at yoga or on her way to. She hadn't been ready to fight off an intruder. She had always been trusting. She had left windows unlocked, and the door was never unlocked at home until we went to bed. She chatted with strangers and said things about herself I'd never say to strangers. James had never had easier prey.

The kooky set up made me wonder if James was dumber than he seemed. It seemed like Mom was alone in the room. It seemed like I could easily walk over, untie her, and get out. It seemed wrong. But how would I know how to get out of the trap until I knew what it was? I decided to go for it. I knew my breathing alone was loud enough to alert James, but I pushed the door shut so that it there was barely a crack. If he did walk in maybe I could hide and he wouldn't notice the door. I was too afraid to close my escape route entirely.

Mom saw me and her pale face warm. Blood made her cheeks rosy. She swiped her fingers across her cheeks and sat up. But she wasn't happy to see me. Not really. Not when her eyes were wide and darted to a closet. Her head shook. She snapped her mouth shut, too afraid to say the warning out loud. It was obvious that James was in the room. So that was his trap.

I froze halfway across the room. I didn't know what to do. Had he really not heard me yet? He hadn't come out. Was he waiting for me to take the bait, think I was winning, and then show up to laugh at me? I didn't know if I should go for it anyway and pretend that it was possible he hadn't been listening for my heartbeat.

What the hell. I crossed the room. Mom never took her eyes off the closet. I didn't look. I was terrified to look just in time to see him pounce from it. I untied Mom's wrist. It was red and scratched from the string. She hugged me. The chair creaked. I think both our hearts stopped. She stood slowly, careful not to nudge the chair, and then took my hand. We stepped lightly and tried for the door. Of course our victory didn't last long. James was ahead of us, leaning on the door, grinning with sharp canines gleaming at us.

"Really well done, Bella," he said.

Mom squeezed my hand so tightly she could've crushed every bone inside it. She wrapped a hand around my arm and pulled me close.

"I had expected to be disappointed," he said. "But you came. Alone. Very brave."

"Let my mom go." My voice was deep, strained to choke down the terror. It didn't sound normal, but at least I sounded firm. "She has nothing to do with this."

Mom squeezed my arm lightly. "Bella," she whispered.

I was too afraid to look away from James to see what she was trying to say. I could hear in her voice that she wanted to say that I had nothing to do with it either, but it wasn't true. We both knew it couldn't be true.

"I wish I could," he said, and then sighed heavily. He pushed away from the door and took three long, but slow steps forward. "You have been quite cooperative. I feel I should reward you, since I have no intention of letting you live, but… Bella, as helpful as you've been, I can't risk let a human who knows my secret loose. The Volturi would not be pleased." He touched his fingertips together and was in motion again, his smooth strides around us creating a cage.

Mom faced the door, but I followed him, tracing him with eyes at first, and then turning to watch him make his circle around us. Mom started to quiver. It didn't help. It made it harder for me to be brave.

"Poor Bella," he said. "So oblivious to the dangers of our world. If you hadn't met that boy, you would have never met me. I find myself wondering how you feel about him now."

"Fine, thanks."

His feet stopped. "Fine." His eyes were wide. He laughed. His shoulders shook. "Now that,"—he stretched out his arm and pointed at me with a steady hand—"that is _true love_. Fine." He dropped his arm and started pacing around us again. "Pure poetry." His laughter stayed in his tone, mocking me. "I was a little bored by the idea of you making this so easy for me, but now I am amused again. The boy has already lost his love, and you aren't even dead yet."

"Shut up." I knew it was stupid, but he'd made me angry. If he wanted to kill me anyway what was the point of putting up with him. "You don't know me."

"I know that someone in love wouldn't describe it as _fine,_" he said with one eyebrow raised. "No doubt you blame him. Your mother is going to die because you got involved with him. You're going to die because he wanted you."

In a blink his face was an inch from mine. He wrapped his hand around my throat and pulled me close enough to smell his breath. Rot and copper. Saliva shone on his teeth. Mom screamed and tried to punch him, shove him, rip him off me. He barely felt it. He shoved her to the floor without much effort.

"This is his fault," James said. He was choking me and he was laughing about it.

Whatever bravery I'd come into the room with had dissolved. He didn't have to suck my blood for it to rush from my face. I felt my blood draining, like none of it was left inside. Maybe it transformed into sweat, because even though cold struck my spine, my palms and every crevice of my body was leaking. Fear was not an attractive look for me. My eyes watered too, and it wasn't long before I was crying.

But he dropped me. Mom crawled over to me and put her arms around him, she cried for James to let us go and to stop hurting me, but he wasn't listening. He took out a camera and crouched.

"I thought I'd make a little video message for your boy, Edward," James said. He brought the camera close to my face, and then backed up, aiming for the best angle. "Besides making your boy feel distraught, I also need a little proof that I took care of you."

"Proof? For who?" Mom shouted, her voice scratchy, raw. "If this is some sort of gang initiation—"

James grabbed her by the roots of her hair and pulled up. She shouted and her threw her down. I scrambled to reach her. She whispered to me that she was okay and took my hand. She moved to stand, but she wobbled. She had to lean on me to stay upright.

"Now, Bella, this video is all about you," James said. "No need to act. This is more like a documentary. I want it to be real. So tell Edward how you feel."

I felt a little bruised, but I wasn't going to admit that. I looked behind us at the door. There was no way we could run for it. He was too fast.

"I'll give you some direction." James stood, moving around us again, keeping his camera hand level. "You could beg Edward to save you. That will really move the audience at home. Why not?"

"It doesn't matter," I said. "He can't save me. I'm not going to beg."

"Hmm." He narrowed his eyes. "That is true. He can't cave you."

James had my Mom standing with him, his arm around her neck, before I had noticed she wasn't beside me. "Here's your motivation." His mouth opened, so wide his jaw might have unhinged, and his teeth carved into her neck. There was more blood than flesh. Red seeped down her shirt. She screamed. I screamed. I had said I wouldn't beg, but I begged. James dropped her and she fell to the floor with a crack and what little blood was left in her pooled from the split in her skull. James smiled, half his face dark red.

I couldn't make a sound. Time passed. I could only look at her. I was crouched on the floor, wanting to reach for her, but unable to move. I felt myself slipping, my mind blank. But my lungs remembered the need for air and I breathed. The air tunnelled inside my throat. I could feel my throat aching.

"Mom?"

I waited. I knew, but I waited anyway. Tears blurred my vision. I tried to wipe them away, but they kept coming.

"_Mom_." I crawled forward. James followed me with his phone camera but I didn't care. I took Mom's hand. She was warm. I could still feel her. I started crying her name. It didn't sound like a word anymore, but I kept crying for her, until I was screaming. I wasn't sure if it was sadness or anger or anything but I was screaming until my throat felt like it was bleeding. I sobbed and screamed and hugged her, blood smearing on me, until James started to laugh. I was silent then.

"That…_yes_, that is exactly what I was hoping to capture," James cheered. He clapped a hand against his thigh, never turning the camera off. "Edward will really feel an appropriate amount of guilt. And Aro will surely be amused when he sees this. Well done, Bella. After that I might not need to torture you." He paused. "But it is more fun that way."

James grabbed my hair and ripped me backwards. I reached back, trying to fight off his hands. My throat was already sore from screaming, but the pain coming from my scalp made me cry out again. He released my hair and grabbed my arm, dragging me to my feet.

"Now. For the grand finale, tell Edward he failed you." James laughed. "Tell him…Tell him how much you hate him. Because he's the reason your innocent mother is _dead_."

My lips were quivering. I pressed them together. I wasn't going to make James happy. If I couldn't kill him, at least I could do this.

James kicked my shin. The bone cracked. I shouted and fell back.

"I'm not asking for anything complicated, Bella." He exhaled. He was frustrated now. Good.

He crouched. "Give me what I want." He took my wrist in his hand. "Let's see a little hate."

I curled my fingers and with my free hand punched his nose up, the way my gym teacher had taught us. I think I cracked something, a bone in my palm, because I cried out from the pain of hitting him. His head had moved back, but his nose was in the same place and he'd shed no blood.

"Still resisting," he said with a hungry grin. He laughed. "Poor choice."

I'd never given much thought to how I would die—but now I was face to face with yet another killer. I was beginning to question why I'd been such an idiot. I'd faced death so many times in the last year, but I never imagined it would end like this. I knew if I'd never gone to Forks, I wouldn't be facing death now. But, terrified as I was, I had only one regret. Maybe it was a noble thing to die for the sake of someone you loved—but I hadn't been given that choice. Mom had died anyway. Because I couldn't get Edward Cullen to stay the hell away from me.

James brought my wrist to his mouth and his teeth wriggled into my skin. I bit down on my cheeks and closed my eyes. I'd screamed enough. I didn't want to do it anymore.

When I opened my eyes again it was because something had slammed hard on the other side of the room. What I saw was James' body imbedded into the opposite wall. Edward had a hand pressed against his shoulder and he was just as feral looking as James. They were both like wildcats ready to pounce. Except James' arm was hanging from Edward's grasp and bits of wall were crumbling around him. My head was heavy, but I looked to the open door and saw Alice. Carlisle was already beside me.

I don't know why I wasn't more concerned with Carlisle, but I kept my eyes on Alice. She seemed terrified. I wondered at first if she was having a vision, but then she moved forward, with shuffling steps.

"I know you," she said.

Alice's word distracted Edward long enough for James to break away. James slammed Edward onto the ground. He didn't have the same force Edward had managed, so the floor only splintered, and Edward was able to get up quickly. The wrestled a moment, movements too quick for my eyes to follow, floorboards breaking and thunderous bangs and cracks whenever one of them attacked.

Carlisle had rolled up my pant leg. He seemed to finish examining my leg, because I heard him say something was broken. He took my wrist and that's when I was able to focus my attention back on myself.

"He bit you," Carlisle said.

Our eyes met. I knew what it meant. I looked down. The blood hadn't dried yet, but I could almost make out the shape his teeth had carved into my skin. He'd definitely bit me. I could feel my blood start to burn.

"What do you want, Bella?" Carlisle asked.

I looked up at him not understanding the question at first. It seemed obvious that it was painful and I wanted him to help. To stop it. But this wasn't the same as my leg. This wasn't blood and a broken bone. The pain started to build. My body was shaking from the pain, shaking like I was cold, but my blood was warm. My wrist itched like the venom had come from a mosquito bite. But the itch got worse. I raised my hand, but before I could dig my nail into the teeth marks, Carlisle caught my hand. If he hadn't stopped me I might have scratched my wrist open. My breathing was heavy. I'd thought I'd cried out all my tears, but more came as the pain worsened. The heat was a fire, singeing ever blood cell.

I heard Edward shout. Then Alice screamed. Through tear-filled eyes I saw her collapse into the floor and curl into a ball. Edward almost fell just the same, but he looked over his shoulder, searching until his eyes met mine. His hands formed tight fists and he growled low in his throat. James, who had been laughing again, now made no sound. His lips curled angrily. He backed away.

Pain attacked me again and I did all I could to resist screaming. Carlisle had clutched his head like Alice had, but he was alert again. He wrapped something around my leg. Something straight and solid and bandages, making my leg bound like a mummy. It hurt when he moved it, but my leg was little more than a tickle compared to my wrist.

"Bella, what do you want!?"

The pain was so bad I thought it might be easier to die. I knew he could save me. I knew I could become a vampire too, and be better than ever, stronger and faster, and able to save myself if I ever got into trouble again. I wasn't sure I wanted to wake up tomorrow and remember this, I didn't want to go to Mom's funeral. I couldn't explain to Dad how it had happened. I didn't want to look at Edward and tell him James had been right. I blamed him. I blamed myself, but everything James had said was true. I wished I had never met Edward Cullen.

I wasn't sure I wanted to survive this.

I felt someone take my hand and say my name. Edward. He kissed my forehead.

Carlisle wanted an answer. I didn't have one. I only knew I couldn't live with Edward forever.

"Carlisle," I said. "Please…"

I don't know if the words came out. My throat was so raw it wouldn't surprise me if I'd lost my voice. My eyes had been blurry, and then my eyes wouldn't open. I saw black, and then my mind shut off, like pressing a button. My mind was gone. I thought I felt James' poison in my veins. Like a dark screen with only the infected parts of me visible. Glowing veins from a diagram visible in the dark. Then the fire in my blood cooled, and even the glowing veins were darkened, and there was nothing.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Chapter 24 next, and then the Epilogue. Please leave comments!<strong>


	25. Chapter 24: An Impasse

_24. AN IMPASSE_

My first thought was pain. I could feel my leg ache and my palm. Then I felt the pillow under my head, too soft to be mine. The sheets were strange too. Stiff. They smelled like new—not comfortable, but like I was the first to use them. It made me feel uneasy. This wasn't home.

I opened my eyes and saw white. White sheets. White walls. I flexed my fingers. My left hand was bandaged around the wrist and across my palm. My eyes traced my body to my leg, which was in a cast. I was in a hospital room. The door was open. The steady bleed of a monitor somewhere beside me skipped a bleep. A cold hand touched mine.

Edward stood beside the bed and he'd taken my unscathed hand. "Bella."

"Edward." My voice was groggy from sleep. It wasn't sore though. I'd thought for sure after all that screaming it would be. It only felt dry. I tried to move my other hand, but it was bound tightly.

Edward helped me sit up, watching every bandaged part of me with concerned eyes. He offered me a cup of water. I drained it in seconds. It didn't quench my thirst.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"The hospital. We're still in L.A.," Edward explained. "Carlisle finally convinced Charlie to leave the room."

My chest tightened. "Why did he need to leave the room?"

"That chair isn't as comfortable as it looks." Edward nodded towards the chair on the opposite side of the bed, now leaning against the wall. It didn't look comfortable at all. It looked worn. The arms were wood without anything cushioning. The back was sunken, probably from worried fathers or friends leaning against it, waiting. "He deserved a moment to stretch his legs. Alice promised to sit with you, and that seemed to appease him."

"Alice?"

"Hey." She stood beside Edward. She'd been like a ghost in the room, only visible when she wanted to be. She smiled, but her usual energy had been bottled, only showing slightly, and her eyes were dark.

I reached forward and she copied me, letting me take her hand. "Alice, are you okay?"

Some of her energy brightened her eyes and her smile widened. "You're the one in the hospital, Bella," she reminded me.

"I remember…you said you knew him," I said. Thinking about that night made my head heavy, like there were cotton balls insulating my skull. There was too much in my head. But maybe because, even though I'd woken up less than a minute ago, I was awake enough to know I needed to suppress some things about that night. I needed the heavy headedness, the insulation to keep back the details that would hurt too much.

Alice slid onto the bed next to my cast. She patted my uninjured leg. "Yes, yes. I guess it's good you haven't suffered any brain trauma, but I was hoping you'd forget most of that night."

"That night," I asked, "how long has it been…?"

"Almost a week," Edward said.

I stared down at my figure clothed in bed-sheets. I'd never lain in bed for a week before. I thought it was bad enough when I slept until eleven on a summer day. No wonder I felt more like a wrapped doll than a human being.

"It's been a week and this still needs a bandage?" I raised my bandaged palm. I couldn't see any signs of red under the gauze.

"It was deep," Edward said. His eyes darkened and he scowled. He stared at my hand, but he was seeing something else, maybe re-playing the events of that night.

"James is dead," I said, "right?"

"He's dead," Edward said. It was quick and cold, leaving no room for doubt.

"James is the reason I'm a vampire," Alice said quietly. Like Edward, though her eyes were aimed at my palm she was looking somewhere far away. "I can't remember it all. But I know that much. He had something to do with it."

"You didn't recognize him before? I mean, when we were trying to track him down, maybe in one of your visions?"

Alice smiled sadly. "It…was…the feeling of him," she said. "I didn't recognize his face. I recognized _him_. Before I was so focused on other things, like trying to find him or protect you, that I didn't really notice him." She laughed sharply. "I know that sounds odd, but that's the truth." She shook herself, like shaking off a bad taste, like she had sucked on a lemon. Her lips pursed. "At least we have one bad thing out of the way."

I frowned. "One bad thing? There's more?"

"Victoria got away," Edward said.

"She was pretty damn unhappy when Emmett let slip with killed her boyfriend," Alice added. "So she ran." She shrugged.

"Will she come back?"

"You're safe, Bella," Edward promised. He kissed my forehead. "She isn't like James. She wouldn't be willing to endanger her own life to get close to you. I got inside her head a few times. She has an irresistible survival instinct."

I nodded. James was dead. Victoria had been run off. I was in the hospital, alive, and my dad was somewhere in the building. What I was most grateful for was the soreness in my palm. James had left me a scar. It was a permanent punishment for what had happened. But I wasn't a vampire.

"Carlisle saved me," I whispered, more for my own benefit, to hear it out loud so I could start to believe it.

"You asked him to," Edward said, with a curious distance in his voice. He wasn't touching me anymore.

I expected Alice to say something. But she didn't. When I looked for her, I realized she'd escaped. I was alone with Edward.

Edward stood facing the door. He had his arms crossed. He was silent. Normally he was composed enough to pass for a model at a photo shoot. Not today. His dusk-blue shirt was wrinkled, one side of the collar upturned. His hair seemed darker than usual, like it has lost years of sunlight highlighting. He probably could've used a hairbrush too. Yet he pulled off disheveled better than any mere mortal ever could. I combed my hand through my hair, trying to be inconspicuous, and found that my hair felt greasy, and was probably flat. I was glad the room didn't have any mirrors. I didn't look in the window long enough to try to pick out my reflection.

"I understand why," Edward said. "It was the wrong moment. And I know the last thing you'd want is to become a vampire because James forced you too." Edward pivoted, slowly, his eyes hesitant to find my face. "It should be your choice. You had every right to ask Carlisle to save you."

"You're right," I said firmly. "I did."

Edward nodded. He stayed where he was, a few feet away, equal distance between me and the door. He could approach me as easily as he could run away from me.

"I won't push you again." He closed his eyes. "I swear to you, I won't make that decision for you." He opened his eyes. His eyes shone, like he might cry, but he couldn't. Tears were for humans. "I won't bring it up again."

A knot wriggled in my stomach. He was in pain. He was feeling guilty—drowning in it, and I wasn't even willing to reach out my hand to help him. Maybe I was the monster. Maybe James had turned me into one. Carlisle had tried to save me, but maybe it was too late the second James took my mom.

"Thanks," I said. It wasn't the best I could do, but it was the best I was willing to do. I hated to let James win something, but he had won. He might not have walked away but he'd killed and he'd made it impossible to forgive Edward for luring me into his world.

"You're angry with me," Edward said.

"Yes."

"I understand."

"You should."

Edward's eyes found mine. The anger in my eyes had been strong, but the coldness in his gaze forced my rage to cool.

"I am truly sorry for what James did to you," he said, "and for what he did to your mother."

"He killed her." My jaw clenched. "He killed my mom," I spat through my teeth, fingers balling around the sheets. "Because I was close to you."

"I am sorry—"

"That's not enough!" I grabbed the vase of flowers from the table beside me and threw them at his head with as much force as I could. The movement stretched bruises that I hadn't realized I'd had. I'd grabbed it with my bandaged hand, and the contact had made my palm itch.

Edward caught the vase without blinking. He placed the vase back on the table and picked up a tulip that had slipped out during the toss.

"You need some time," he said quietly. "It won't be easy, to let you go, but I will allow you time to heal."

Edward leaned over me. I burrowed my head back into the pillow, but he ignored the action. He touched my neck and he touched his lips to mine. I closed my eyes. I felt sick. Woozy. Despite how angry I was, his lips were distracting. I could almost imagine forgiving him, telling him I didn't need that much time, as long as we didn't talk. If he kissed me and we never talked again and only touched me I might feel okay. I didn't say that though. I waited until I couldn't feel him in the room and then I opened my eyes. I listened to my heart monitor beeping wildly, slowing to a normal pace as I watched it. I watched it for a few minutes, maybe twenty minutes, wondering if it was better to have a steady heartbeat forever or if maybe I was already too changed to be satisfied with steady.

Alice knocked on the door, although she was already halfway inside, and she didn't pause to ask if she could come in. The knock was a courtesy. I was already in the hospital. I'd had enough surprises for a while.

"Bella?"

I crossed my arms. "Alice?"

"I thought I'd wait for you to beat up Edward before I talked to you." Her tone was teasing, but her smile was faltering. "That way you might be less angry with me."

"Angry? With you?" My brow furrowed. "Why—" I stopped, my mind memory catching up with her words.

She had been right about one thing. I'd gotten angry with Edward even though he hadn't done any deliberate damage. He was a fellow victim. He had definitely played a big part of bringing misery into my life, but I knew in my heart that if he could choose everything that happened to me, he would keep away all the bad. He'd failed to keep me safe and he hadn't rescued Mom—but it was Alice who had said there was a chance to save her.

Heat and rage came out in liquid form, out from my tear ducts, blazing over my lashes and down my cheeks. My breath quickened, becoming shallow, coming much too close to a break down. Alice, reaching her arm out as far as the length of it would allow her, held out a glass of water. I took it from her and drank. I dabbed my eyes with the edge of the bedsheets.

"You lied."

"I didn't lie!" Her eyes were as wide and circular as plates.

"You said that you saw a future where my mom lived."

"I did. But then…I…I'd always had a terrible feeling that something was wrong with it," she confessed, her voice lowering the more she said, afraid of the damage her words would do. "When we were waiting in the car I saw that future, where your mom…and I saw what would happen to her, to you, to my family…the further I looked, the more I was afraid. When I told you that it came down to timing, I wasn't lying, Bella. I really saw that future. But it wasn't a happy one." She sat down on the edge of the bed by my feet. She picked at a loose thread with her nails, loosening it until it was long enough to twist around her fingertip. "Your mom couldn't cope. She became paranoid. She took you away from Forks. You go with her, because you're worried that she'll get worse if you don't. Then she got depressed, and so did you. Your mom blames Edward for getting you involved with dangerous people. It's not long before she comes after our family. She draws too much attention. Our family has to disappear. But Edward…he loves you, Bella. He wouldn't leave you."

I closed my eyes. Alice's described future made sense. One event leading to another. That was how Alice saw the future. Every choice led to another choice, and she'd seen what the future I'd asked her for would do. It would destroy her family. Mom would've been alive, but she wouldn't be stronger for it. Mom had always been delicate and sensitive. She broke down over simple things. She'd be jittery with bright red cheeks whenever she was running late for an appointment. When she burnt Christmas dinner one year she cried for three hours sitting on the kitchen floor. She was at times the most cheerful person in the world, because simple things made her immeasurable happy. The same could be said for the bad things that no one else would think about twice. She'd never be okay after what James did to her.

I could imagine every step of her breakdown. She'd start with putting more locks on her door. She'd keep a baseball bat in her room, beside her bed. Phil would probably understand in the beginning. He might encourage her to take a self-defense class. He'd definitely agree with her when she told me I wasn't allowed to see Edward anymore. She would jump at every shadow. She would refuse to walk anywhere alone, even to go from a strip mall door to her car parked in the space three feet from the door. Or maybe she'd run from the door to her car. She might drop her keys and start bawling, thinking that was the chance that someone needed to kidnap her again. Phil might love Mom now, but they hadn't known each other long. What if he got tired of her paranoia? What if he decided to leave her? She'd be alone. I'd have to move back in with her. That wouldn't be enough to reverse the fear, but she would be able to sleep at night with someone else close by.

But then Edward wouldn't give up on me. Mom wouldn't let him near me. Because how could I lie and say Edward had nothing to do with it when James had taunted me about Edward? Mom didn't need a superior intellect to connect the dots. So I would be miserable stuck supporting my terrified mother and Edward wouldn't waste anytime saving me from that shitty situation. Whether I asked him to take me away or not, he would. Mom wouldn't survive that. Not to mention how dangerous it would be for the Cullens with Mom going to the police trying to track them down and separate Edward and I. It wasn't exactly the happy ending I'd wanted it to be.

"You had to protect your family," I said hoarsely. "I understand."

"But you're mad."

"Yes."

"You want me to go away?"

"_Yes_."

"Forever?"

I opened my eyes. "Alice, you're psychic. Answer your own questions."

She stood. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I know that an apology doesn't help much right now, but I am. Sorry. And when you're ready to see me again I'll say sorry again. As many times as you need me to. I'm sorry."

I closed my eyes and rolled over to stifle the sobs I could keep in anymore. The pillowcase quickly dampened. I was awake now. Wide awake.

The next arms that wrapped around me weren't cold, but warm. I ignored the tug of the cords I was hooked up to and let Dad pull me in close. I let him rock me back and forth. He apologized to me. Like there was anything he could've done. He was here. He was with me. But I couldn't tell him what had really happened. He here, but I was alone. The only other person I loved who had come close to knowing the truth was dead. What was I supposed to say to him?

I did the only thing I could. I apologized to him too. The words were slurred, more so every time I repeated them. _I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry_. He'd loved her. They'd been high school sweethearts. They'd been married. He asked about her with a lonely look in his eyes every time I'd had a weekend or a summer with him. He'd never stopped considering her his family. She'd been stolen from both of us.

There was no way to go back and make everything okay again. I understood that. But I didn't know how to move forward. It was all too much. Impassable.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE: Second last chapter! Now for the Epilogue! Please, leave comments! I love reading them!<strong>


	26. Epilogue: An Occasion

**_EPILOGUE: AN OCCASION_**

"What the hell are you doing, Bella?"

A splot of cookie dough ice cream fell off my spoon onto my _Marianna's Trench_ shirt. "Cleaning this off," I said. I stabbed my spoon into the pint-sized tub and went into the kitchen. Dad followed me in, taking in my less than formal attire, clearly disappointed that I wasn't the cool high school student he was back in his day, or something. He definitely looked disappointed.

"Bella—"

"Before you tell me that sitting at home eating ice cream while my friends are going to some stupid high school dance is seriously unhealthy," I interrupted, "let me remind you that I'm not returning my boyfriend's calls, and therefore I have no date, and even though I confess to having a dress I _could_ wear to the dance, tonight is not a party night. I don't have the energy to dance poorly while my toes get stepped on while I go deaf because of loud music blaring in a filled-to-capacity gym. I don't feel like having fun tonight. I feel like eating ice cream while my friends are at a stupid dance."

Dad was stunned. His eyes were wide, his mouth shut. He had his hands on his hips. He watched me take a cloth from the sink and dab my shirt, and then go immediately back to the couch to un-pause my _Back to the Future_ marathon…which I had started hours ago and realized much too late that a big part of the story involves a high school dance. But if I took it off now I would have to explain why. It wasn't the kind of ammunition I was willing to give Dad. From the tone of his voice he had probably already convinced himself that he would take me to the dance himself just to get me there.

It's not as if I'd been living on the couch and addicted to junk food for the last two months. I'd taken a couple weeks to heal from the physical injuries and get control of the mental ones. It had been difficult to smile the first month. It had been painful. I was struck with guilt, like a slice across my heart, every time I felt a little bit happy.

Jacob had come to the funeral with Dad. They were my support system. Phil said he wanted to keep in touch. The hard part was that he really did. He hadn't paid much attention to me when Mom was alive, but now he sent me an email at then end of every week checking in. I felt obligated to, so I'd been sending one back each week. We didn't say anything all that personal, but I think we got what we both needed from each other. A connection to my mom.

I wish I could say I'd thought about it, coming back to Forks, but I hadn't. The morning after our flight back to Forks Dad had asked if I was sure. I was surprised. Mom hadn't died in Forks, so why wouldn't I come back? Dad told me he was afraid I'd want to go home, somewhere else, somewhere Mom had been. I told him the truth though, that Forks was home. He'd put on a brave face for me since he first saw me in the hospital, but knowing that I'd found my way home was too much for him. He left the room and let himself cry quietly for a minute.

Going back to school wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. My friends made it easy. I saw how surprised they were when I didn't immediately go for Edward during lunch. They didn't ask about it. They only periodically checked in to see how my mental state was. Mostly they talked about their own lives. Life had gone on without me. I'd missed events. I'd missed a couple birthday bashes, and supposedly a hilarious prank involving the teacher's lounge, Chuck Norris, and beanbags. I was told the story, but my mind had wandered. I'd caught Edward staring at me. The story wasn't nearly as interesting.

A couple weeks after I was back in school, when I was finally comfortable enough to tag along for the combination study party and movie watching after school specials (and willingly sign up for the Holiday Decorating Committee because Jess was having trouble finding volunteers), Alice invited herself over one evening. She charmed Dad easily, and as much as I wanted to be upset with her, Alice was like a puppy. She was cute, had way too much energy, and I forgave her before she'd said her thousandth apology. She said hi to me in the hallway and took it upon herself to drive me to and from school everyday. Her excuse was that she didn't trust my senior citizen of a truck but I knew she was doing it for Edward. He was giving me space, but it was too annoying to not keep close to me in some way. He also kept putting a lily in my locker. Every morning when I'd go to exchange my textbooks, there would be another one lying there. I had a vase in the centre of the kitchen table that couldn't hold too many more. Dad would watch me add another to the vase each day and say nothing, except a few days ago he mumbled something about pitying that poor Edward.

"You don't _have_ to be happy tonight," Dad said, "as long as you promise you'll be happy most of the time."

I rolled my eyes. "I promise."

"Good." His nose crinkled. "Maybe take a shower though, fix up your hair. Rats might get the wrong idea and move in."

My fingers shot to my hair. It was Friday. It had been a half-day, due to the preparations for the dance—the Snowflake Dance (I didn't pick the name). I admit to faking a sick day and telling my friends the day before that I wasn't feeling well and might not come…and then texted them to say I definitely had a cold and wouldn't be coming to the dance. It was a lie. I didn't feel a teeny bit guilty. But being a teenager, I couldn't help but consider that even with no one with a fashionable eye at home to judge me that it might be worth it to inspect my hair in a mirror. It had been fine, if a little flat, this morning. Maybe Dad was right. Since I was avoiding the dance, why not have a steamy bubble bath to drown my thoughts in?

It turned out to be an excellent idea. Firstly because the hour I spent relaxing was, frankly, relaxing. I almost dozed off it was so nice. Secondly, and this was a traumatizing secondly, Alice was in my room when I got out of the bath. She held up two dresses, one with a long floor-length skirt and the other had a short, above-the-knees skirt.

"This is a coup," she said with toothy grin. "You're Dad knows I'm here and I've convinced him that it is absolutely necessary for me to use any kind of force necessary to drag you to that dance looking damn fine!"

I turned and was about to close the door to my room behind me, maybe lock myself in the bathroom, when Alice scooped me up and dropped me on my bed.

"Short dress or long?" she asked.

"Neither. I'm not going, Alice."

"We're both going," she said. "Don't make me late by arguing with me."

I rolled my eyes. "Have you considered that this might do more harm than good?"

"No," she said sharply, "because it's going to do you good. I've seen it."

We both flinched. In the two months since Mom's death, Alice had gone out of her way to never mention a vision. I'd seen her lips close tightly or she'd suddenly change the subject if she got close to saying it, but it had helped me forgive her.

"It's okay," I said. I traced a finger along the pale scar on my left palm. "I don't blame you anymore, Alice. You don't have to avoid talking about what you see or feel, alright?"

"Thank you." She hopped onto the bed and laid her legs out next to mine. "It was tricky not saying anything."

I smiled. "I could tell."

Alice held up the dresses again. I groaned, but I knew that if even my Dad wanted me to go to this dance, it was pointless to fight. I grabbed my phone from my bedside table and texted Angie to tell her I would see her at the dance. Alice read the text over my shoulder and cheered.

When I couldn't decide which dress, Alice decided the long one, which seemed more appropriate for the red carpet than a small town high school dance, but I didn't have the energy to put together a list of pros and cons for the deep blue floor-length gown. There was a layer of sheer, gauzy material that made the dress sparkle like the night sky. It fit perfectly, not that I should be surprised since Alice had picked it out. My arms were bare and the front v-neck was a little wider than what I was normally comfortable with, but it did allow ample room to showcase the silver-beads that Alice draped over my in layers. She helped me curl my hair and then pinned my hair so that it was partially pinned in an asymmetrical half-pinned up, half-down do. It was fabulous in a way I knew I had a snowball's chance in hell of replicating. Alice made me close my eyes as she did my make-up, adding a line of thin, silver sparkling eyeliner and colouring my lips deep pink. The first earrings she made me try on were too heavy and I put my foot down, so she went with her backup pair, simple gold beads that matched the chains of beads around my neck.

Alice swore that the best way to avoid stepping on the skirt was to wear high heels and not flats, and since she was already making her doll for the night I slipped into the dark blue strappy deathtraps. Heels were a great way to add height, and although I had yet to perfectly master the art of walking in heels like a sexy, strong, independent woman (mostly I walked just a small child playing dress up), one thing was true: the first few steps in high heels reminded me of dancers. I'd watched _So You Think You Can Dance?_ a few times and been awed at how mere mortals can make their bodies move. The women on those shows weren't dancing in sneakers or sensible shoes. No, they had characters shoes and heels. Anytime I wore high heels the child inside me felt like the shoes were giving me a superpower, to be that much closer to be the kind of woman that can tango or do fancy jumps even with a constant two or more inches separating my heel from the floor.

Maybe Alice's choice of shoes would make me dance better tonight. I could use all the help I could get, since the extent of my high school dancing capabilities included swaying to a rhythm and bobbing my head to a beat.

Alice touched up her own make-up while Dad snapped a few pictures of me at the bottom of the stairs. He almost let slip that he wished my mom could see how beautiful I looked. He stopped himself in time, but I heard it anyway.

Dad snapped a few more shots with me beside Alice. He waved us away from the front door. I complimented Alice on her ability to drive so easily in four-inch heels.

The closer we got to the school, and the gymnasium where the bountiful mass of streamers had been hung, the quieter Alice got. She grinned like the Joker, but she only nodded or gave one-word answers when I tried to get her to speak. I was suspicious. She'd already strong-armed me into coming, so what other devious thing could be waiting for me tonight?

I knew when she pulled into a spot in the parking lot and the hand that helped me out of the car was Edward's.

When I looked around for Alice she was already gone. I was alone in the dark lot with Edward. There weren't any lights in the lot. I could only count on the lights coming from the front of the school.

"You are beautiful, Bella," Edward said.

"I guess I clean up okay, huh?" I laughed nervously. I'd glimpsed him in the cafeteria daily but it felt like we'd been on different continents for two months.

"You've always been beautiful, but tonight you're a goddess of the night," he said. He took my hand and softly stroked his thumb over my fingers. He leaned to kiss the back of my hand. Then he turned my hand over and found the scar on my palm. "How are you?"

"Better than I thought I'd be," I confessed. "I was sure I'd be crying for months. And angry for even longer but…" I shrugged.

Edward was every inch a modern prince. His hair was combed back and he was wearing black tux with the sleeves rolled above his elbows, the white marked with thin apple-red stripes. The last time I'd seen him he'd been worn and worried. Tonight he'd jumped from a black and white movie screen ready to dance and deliver the charming lines with all the charisma and gentlemanly manner that a beautiful and charming movie heroine deserved. But was I that heroine? I sure didn't feel heroic. Or deserving of an elaborately choreographed dance number.

"You let me have my space," I told him. I pressed my hand into his, twisting my fingers through his and stepping closer. "A better person would be more concerned with grieving for their mother than missing you."

Edward's hand found my waist. His lips touched mine. One quick kiss. One deep kiss. My hand snaked up his neck, desperate to touch his skin, to knot fingers in his hair. When he took his lips from mine, our foreheads touching, I realized how much I had been dying to kiss him since I first woke up in the hospital in LA two months ago.

"I missed you," I confessed.

"And I you," he said. He kissed my forehead. His hand rested on my cheek. "I thought you might be angry at me forever." He suddenly smirked. "But Alice reminded me yesterday that you are mortal, and are therefore limited in how long you can hold a grudge."

I lightly whacked his chest and stepped back, but I let him keep hold of my hand. "I am known far and wide for my exceptional grudge holding capabilities."

Edward shook his head. He believed me to be much more forgiving than I believed myself. The Bella in his heart was a purer soul than the Bella I knew. I wasn't known far and wide, but I did hold grudges. I just held them in secret and tonight I buried that secret deeper. I needed some comfort. I was a teenage girl and there was a boy (albeit a boy who'd lived more than twice my age) who wanted to give me flowers, hold my hand, and take me to a fantastically stupid high school dance. I needed this.

"Thank you," I said, "for the flowers."

"I was worried you might need more space than that. That I might be pushing you farther away." He frowned.

"It helped," I admitted. "I needed space, I really did. I needed it to be hard. I needed to miss you." I blinked and breathed a deep breath and tried to suck back inside me the tears and the guilt that was always an inch away from bursting out of me. "I needed to be a normal person and not think about…non-human things. But I think I feel like me again." I squeezed his hand. "I'm ready to feel like myself again. I didn't know it before five minutes ago, _but_…here we are." I shrugged.

"Should we go in?" he asked. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye that made me think he was really asking the opposite.

I motioned toward the door. "We're this close," I said, "and I don't like leaving things unfinished."

The twinkle erased. He held out his arm, letting my loop mine over his. Our shadows on the front doors of the school were much too elegant to belong to us—well, maybe Edward, but not me. But somehow Alice had worked a miracle and turned me into hot arm candy. It was so easy to underestimate the power of high-heels and make-up. I often had shaken my head and laughed at the Cinderella-esque makeovers in films. They films were right about one thing though, makeovers may be all about the outside, but they have equal effect on the inside.

In the gym the mass of bodies was much like my expectations. I wasn't up to date on the latest top 10 of the week, but clearly my classmates were because they knew the lyrics to the song. The DJ even turned off the music for a line of the chorus and everyone sang—correction, loudly shouted—the lyrics perfectly. My Mom was murdered and suddenly everyone learns a new song without me. Typical.

Rosalie caught my eye—and damn, she caught the eye of every other person in that gym any time she moved. Thankfully for the jealous girlfriends present, Rosalie mostly made herself a fixture on the wall—a revolving fixture in crimson with a low, dangling front and a mostly bare back. She swayed with Emmett, who earned a thousand bonus points from me for wearing a white t-shirt with the symbol of a tie on the front. Sure he wore dress pants, but the pretend tie made me wonder if, same as me, Emmett knew exactly how Rosalie made other women feel, and he wanted to do what little he could to make it clear that even Aphrodite had problems. Thank God for you, Emmett. He even gave me a high five when Edward and I passed by.

During the first song I stayed with the Cullens, who also didn't know the words. I convinced Edward that the proper protocol for a high school dance was to shimmy with friends for at least a few songs that were nearly impossible to dance to unless you had space and a planned routine. I found Angie. Jess had thankfully forgiven me—although I hadn't figured out if it was a forgiveness born out of pity or because officially becoming Mike's girlfriend had mellowed her out. Either way, we were friends again. Angie had a date too. His name was…well, he had a name, but it wasn't coming to me. Everyone knew the name of the new girl Bella Swan, but that unfortunately didn't go both ways and I had yet to understand why the rumour was that in small towns everyone knows everybody's business. If that were true, Angie's date's name wouldn't be foggy in my mind and a lot more people would be delivering garlic bread to the Cullens' door and asking them to church.

When a slow song came, Edward twirled me away from my friends and assumed a frame that would even put Baby in the corner. (Coincidentally, someone requested _I've Had the Time of my Life_, both the Black Eyed Peas remake and the movie original). I'd been to dances before where the slow song was the signal for wallflowers like me to shrink back and watch the couples form. I owed Edward that much. He had wanted me. For all the shit that came along with him wanting me, I couldn't help but be grateful for the ways he had permanently changed me. It was more than a scar on my hand. The change in me wasn't one visible thing. The girl who'd come to Forks months ago had been naïve and in the dark; the new me had hung a moon in the sky, found light to see by. It might be a gloomy metaphor, but I truly believed that my life because of Edward was a night world and now it felt like my world. The world that my friends belonged, that my dad belonged to, a world my mom had been stolen from, was a world I could only look at and never belong to. The change in me was that I had accepted that separation and knew that my sanity was dependent on me learning to love my night world. I could do it. I was going to do this.

Edward stayed next to me when the slow song ended, but he wasn't one to shimmy goofily and do the robot or gangnam style. He watched and snickered as I did exactly that. He took my hand, held it above my head and spun me in and out, and added a weird beauty to my flailing. I was one hundred percent sure that vampirism was not for me, but thoughts of whether my dancing skills would magically improve if I drank blood did come to mind. When the next slow number came, I was ready to be impressed by Edward's attempt to do anything more than sway in a small circle dully like the other couples, but then I heard the question I'd least expected to hear my lifetime.

"Mind if I cut in?"

Edward's arms stiffened. "Yes."

Maybe Edward wouldn't have been so rigid if a smirk hadn't spread my lips when my eyes took in Jacob in the similar number to Emmett's—except instead of dress pants I noted that they were simply dark wash jeans. His hair was combed back deliberately, painfully deliberately. Before tonight he might hadn't have brushed his hair in years. The cozy and carefree style that he usually wore was leagues away. He cleaned up pretty good.

"Jake, what's the occasion?" I teased.

"I heard there was a school dance."

"We're busy," Edward said coldly.

"Edward, you can spare one dance," I told him.

Edward released me. "One." He stepped back and gave us room. In one fell swoop, Jacob had transformed the dashing Edward into a wallflower. It was a twist that I'm sure neither Edward nor I could've predicted. Alice too seemed perplexed. She rubbed her eyes like she was in a cartoon.

Jacob held up his hands and he stared at my waist. It was like someone had replaced his arms with sticks and he couldn't figure out what to do with them. Granting him mercy, I guided is hands to my back and swung my hands around his neck. I initiated the swaying. Bella Swan, leading man. Who knew?

"Jake, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see how Buffy was handling Spike."

I quirked an eyebrow and frowned.

He rolled his and smiled, his face flushing. "I have an older sister. She watched that stuff. I had to watch it to when my parents went out."

My expression sobered. "You don't talk about your mom much."

Jacob's smile shrunk. He laughed uncomfortably. "No. I don't. I don't remember much about her so there's not a lot to talk about."

We stopped swaying. It was because of me. My shoulders were stone, followed by my back, and my feet nailed into the floor. Jacob removed his hands. Without the weight and heat of his palms, my skin cooled and my heart sank. He must have seen my lip tremble. The gym was dim except for a few rolling multi-coloured lights, but he must have seen. He took my hand. He hadn't asked about the scar there and I had never mentioned it, but somehow that was the hand he closed between his.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to…" His hand tightened around mine. "I lost my mom when I was a kid. That's all. You knew your mom. Forget what I said."

To hide my face I placed his hands on my back again and I leaned my forehead on his shoulder and started to sway. Edward was probably listening, but at least this way no one human would notice. Edward already knew my pain, but having Angie or anyone else with a shred of sympathy see me almost crying at a dance would be mortifying. I wanted them to believe I was closer to being better than being in mourning. It needed to be a quiet, unnoticed thing if I was ever going to have more good days than bad.

"I don't know if I knew her," I confessed. The voices on all sides of us must have made it difficult to listen, but I knew Jacob would hear me. "When I moved in with my dad, I was mad at her. I hadn't forgiven her yet. We were apart and I hadn't seen her…it was the longest time we'd been apart. I guess it's the second longest now."

Jacob stopped swaying and his hands held me firm. For a moment he lost his nervousness and wrapped his arms around me. His energy was bright and his warmth seeped through my skin. He was like a nightlight or a firefly in the dark. I wanted to keep him in my life. But I wasn't sure if that was what was best for him. Mom had been far from me, but simply by being my mom she'd been targeted. Was James the only vampire who would ever threaten me because of Edward? Dad had taken me back without even thinking about it. He wanted me. Jacob wanted me. I wanted them. But I wasn't sure it was safe. The doctors had warned Dad that he couldn't afford another accident this year, not after James broke into our home and gave Dad his first concussion since his high school football days.

And there was that other thing too. The explanation for it all. Even though half-truths were exhausting, I told the police and Dad a story about how James had actually been a former boyfriend of Mom's and he'd kidnapped her and told me to come meet them or he'd hurt her. I told them that he threatened her and said everything would be fine if I didn't let anyone know why I was leaving and I met with him alone. A lot of that was true—although I almost vomited in my mouth even saying that James might have a relationship with my mom, even a fictionalized one week fling. But it was easy to describe him as an obsessive stalker who didn't take the hint to fuck off. With the police focused on finding James, who Jasper and Edward had burned into nothingness, the Cullens were safe. Dad never yelled at me, but he did give me a long-winded reminder to always, _always_ tell him when I needed help. And to never lie to him again. It hurt to promise never to lie knowing I surely would and already was. It hurt deeper when Jacob asked me to tell him the real story and I pretended to not knowing what he was talking about.

I opened my eyes and through the maze of twirling bodies I found Edward. He was glaring at Jacob. When he met my eyes his glare melted. He didn't smile.

I pushed away from Jacob and out of habit tried to brush my hair back uselessly. My nail caught on a curl and tugged it loose. Jacob cleared his throat and re-measured the distance between us.

"You've gotten taller," I said to prevent an awkward silence from forming.

"Yeah, well. Yeah." He ruined my attempt. He bobbed his head a few times.

The last chorus of the song was beginning. Edward would pounce the second it faded into a new song.

"I came to make sure you were okay," Jacob said. "Not just because of, you know, but because of him." He jerked his head back in Edward's direction. "Your dad called, worried that you might be upset without a date. He might be even more upset if he knew you only had that guy to look after you."

I smirked. I couldn't help it. It wasn't the smirk of an amused person. No, this was a smirk of someone who had seen exactly what happened when Edward looked after me. Little did Jacob know that Edward had been put to the test. What I'd learned from my misadventures with Edward was that I wasn't worried about my life. It was everyone else I had to worry about.

"I'm not taking any chances," Jacob said. He placed his hands on my shoulders. "I know you haven't always been convinced that he's a great guy and sometimes we stay with people because we don't want to be alone when something bad happens."

"Did you get that from the internet or a self-help book?" It was easy to laugh at him, which I did, because I knew my reasons for wanting Edward were more than wanting a distraction.

He grinned and shook his head once. He sighed sharply and dropped his hands. "Neither. Late night TV. I was avoiding studying."

I bobbed my head a few times, lips pressed tightly. "Should've guessed. You and your anything-to-avoid-homework addiction."

Jacob slipped his hands into his pockets and ducked his head. "It doesn't change what I mean."

I almost crossed my arms, but wondered how horribly un-classy that would look in a dress. Dresses were for lady-like people. I didn't want to ruin the illusion yet. I folded my fingers together in front of me.

"Don't forget I'm here," he said.

"Never," I promised.

He raised his head. "My dad has been talking about you and the Cullens. He hasn't been their biggest fans for a while now, but…"—he shrugged—"he blames them for hurting you. He thinks they have something to do with it." Jacob glanced over his shoulder and then leaned closer. "If there's anything you need to say, I'll listen."

I peeked over Jake's shoulder. Edward was on the move. The song was fading into another. Jake's time was up.

"I'm fine," I said. "If I need you I'll call. Unless it's a ghost, then there's a whole other number I have to dial."

His eyes rolled up. A second longer and his irises might've rolled back into his head. But he laughed, his face scrunched at me. He knew there were serious thoughts in my head but that a serious conversation wasn't what I needed from him.

I touched his arm. "Thanks, Jake."

He watched my hand slip from his arm. He inhaled slowly; his breathe hitched once. "Have a good night, Bella."

Edward breezed around Jacob and slipped his arms around me. Jacob waved and then waded through the bodies to the exit. It was nice having a friend who wanted to listen, even when it was painfully obvious I was keeping things from him. Too bad Edward didn't like the idea of our friendship.

"Let's get some air," Edward said.

I was surprised that Edward didn't go for escape route I assumed he would. Instead of the front doors, he led us past the cafeteria, through the halls that were so cold without student bodies hurrying through. I remembered when I'd told him to follow me this way. I'd told him to let me say my thoughts out loud. I'd told him that I liked him, but even though I did, really did like him, I had to fight for myself first. I told him I wouldn't let him hurt me. It was naïve to think saying it out loud would make it happen.

He held open the door for me. My heels had been easier to navigate on indoor floors. The pavement outside the doors was rougher. I pinched some of my skirt between clammy hands to keep it from dragging and getting dirty. It was cold and the sun was down now. The light above the door was on and it highlighted my breath, visible as I exhaled. The first semester was almost over. It was December. Exam started Monday, ended Friday, and then winter break. Never before in my life had so much happened in such a short time. Four months and it felt like a year.

"Do you remember when you brought me out here?" Edward asked. He stood behind me, his arms around me.

I leaned my head back on his shoulder. "Yes."

"I promised I would put you first," he said.

A cloud passed by to let the moonlight flood down. It was a bright moon. But it was an old moon. It had been full a few nights ago and it was fading. I wondered if the moon would be a sliver for Christmas. Not exactly fitting for the iconic image of Santa and his sleigh flying across the full face of the moon.

"I know I failed you," he said, "but it won't happen again. I know how selfish it is to want to be with you, so if it ever comes to that choice…to protect you or stay with you, I'll do what's best for you. I couldn't bear to see you hurting like that. Not again."

I placed my hands over his. "I'm human, Edward. I have human friends and human family. That means sooner or later I'm going to lose them."

"But not because of me," he vowed. His kissed my cheek. "I never want to be the reason you cry."

I touched his cheek. "I hope you can keep that promise."

Edward and I didn't speak for a few minutes. We stood close and watched the moon light up the clouds that kept passing over it, trying to block it completely. Goosebumps spread on my arms and when my teeth chattered Edward said we should go back inside. I didn't object. We rejoined the dance and stayed a couple hours. I had always thought I was good at lying, but maybe Edward knew me too well. I think he could tell I had changed.

* * *

><p><strong>THE END.<strong>

**_MOONLIGHT: NEW MOON_ COMING SOON. I HOPE YOU'LL TUNE IN!**

**As always, comments/reviews are welcome. (Except maybe entire stories written in the comments. What's that about, Madam/Sir?)**


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